SORGENTE DEL GORGAZZO 2008
Many memories I conserve of Gorgazzo,
beginning from my first visit to this spring back in 1987 when, one weekend, I
came with Jean Jacques Bolanz, who I had got to know a short time before and
with a diver’s group from Lecco and its surrounding areas, with the aim of
exploring this crystal clear spring.
It was the
first time I had ever seen two arms and two legs projecting from a triple 20lt
back-mounted set, the first time that I’d assisted a diver using trimix in an
Italian cave, the first time I’d seen a man remaining for over 2h and 55' in
water, reaching a depth of -108m in a cave and the occasion when, on the square
in front of the restaurant, Jean Jacques chose me.
Of course it
was a choice that marked my life: once the dive was completed and the equipment
stowed in our cars, Jean Jacques asked: -Who brought the sur-ox cylinder (iperoxygen
mixture) up to -40m?-. I felt a shiver down the spine and nervously reply “It
was me!”.
He paid me
his compliments for how I had handled it, with the regulator, a MarkV type,
being outside the snoopy loop, adjusting it for the minimum amount of inhalation
effort and ready to use. A "colossus" showed regard for me, a simple diver as
many others at that time, just used to diving in lakes. After having dinner and
before greeting each other and returning to our own homes, Jean Jacques asked
Patrick to take down my phone number and address, Patrick said -I have already
got his- referring to a group member. With a stubbornness that I learned to know
and patiently to bear with in time, Jean Jacques reinforced –I want his one-
pointing at me.
From that day
on, we stick together in a symbiotic relationship that would perfect over time,
until the fatal separation in October last year, when Jean Jacques set off for
the exploration trip from which no one can return. In 1988 we were still at the
Gorgazzo site, where the depth of -117m was achieved by Jean-Jacques, and I did
my first dive on the “giclette”(15%-20% helium)as well.
The dive did
not go in the best of ways: Jean Jacques entrusted me to dive using a mixture
and asked me if I wanted to team up with a diver belonging to a local diving
group but, as by now I was used to solo diving, I did not accept the proposal;
once I‘d given my decision, I speeded up the kitting up operations in order to
start a few minutes before the other diver. Once I got to the depth of -87m, the
cave turned out to have a horizontal development(very different from the
vertical cave down to -90m depth which was imaginatively drawn by occasional
cave divers). I head on my own along the line that was laid by Jean Jacques over
the previous days; as I reached the shaft leading down to -100m, before starting
to descend it, I noticed the line slacking and coming down from behind me and to
me. –Damn!- I thought -The line has broken, and because of the tension, it sets
off like a spring towards the other belay point-.I started a fast re-entry and
shortly after I found myself with the end of the line in my hand: it’s amazing
how suddenly the cave appears different without the line! Despite a visibility
of more than twenty meters, it seemed a prison from which no one can escape. I
kept calm and covered the few meters which separated me from the shaft leading
toward the exit and fortunately, here was the line running upwards. With still
some more gas reserve and therefore extra time left, I tried to tie a knot on
the line but didn’t succeed because it was too short, I took a piece from my
reel until I eventually managed to reconnect the two lines. On the next day,
Jean Jacques would not have lost valuable time passing this section.
Once we were
outside, I asked the diving “companion” who had dived behind me, what had
happened, and he candidly replied that, he had broken it as he had accidentally
kicked the line with his fins and that he had attempted to knot it, but not
being successful and being cold, had re-surfaced.
In 1992, Jean
Jacques pushed on down to -131m deep, while I explored a parallel shaft leading
-90m to -100m. We took surveys of the system up to -106m.
It was not
until 1995 that we returned to Gorgazzo, exactly the year when it would be up to
me to continue the exploration for a stretch, but a storm prevented our attempt.
Adverse weather conditions covering half-Europe compelled a halt to exploration,
first in Romania, next in Gorgazzo, so we went to Mulino spring, in Castelcivita.
After a week we came back to Gorgazzo, where my transparent bell for
decompression was impressively awaiting for us, at -6m. While approaching the
spring, the umpteenth violent thunderstorm
burst upon us, informing us the right time had faded: the day after, at the edge
of the pool, we watched the water level rising under
our very eyes. After having recovered equipment on a last dive, we came
back home again bitterly disappointed.
In Autumn
1995, a fatal accident prompted authorities to close the access to the spring.
The Gorgazzo,
whose waters are so inviting at moments of low flow, had signed the beginning of
our cooperation and our incredible friendship and remained, in our minds, as a
dream in common, but the permission to be able to gain access, seemed light
years away.
In 2007,
under a series of circumstances, the authorization was secured, and I remember I
sent a text to Jean Jacques who was in Ethiopia, writing: "I have the necessary
permission to dive the Gorgazzo. What should I do?" And he replied from
Ethiopia: "Of course you may go on alone, but pay attention."
Once again,
rain and thunderstorms caused the long-awaited appointment with the spring to be
delayed. In 2008, when I got going again towards the site, Jean Jacques my
friend was no longer there, and the spring misses its pathfinder who had been
carrying on the explorations of the cave without rivals since 1987.
Now, I am a
few years older and I have added an additional 13kg to my weight that I did not
have then. I cover the role as leader that is new to me, really because I miss
my alter ego, Jean Jacques, and I wonder if I have also gained some wisdom to
attempt, once more, to overtake the great unknown of one the most beautiful
European springs.
On 11-01-08,
after a journey interrupted by numerous stops, the trio made up of Claudio,
Ignatius and myself reach Polcenigo, a
small
municipality in the
Province of Pordenone
in the
Italian region
Friuli-Venezia Giulia,
in whose territory, the waters of the Gorgazzo spring arise. It is already 22.00
but, before even going to eat, we hasten toward the spring to glance at the
clear waters of the lake surrounded by ducks and geese: the conditions are
great, only little water flows out of the mother earth. Inside the lighted lake,
we get a glimpse of many fat and incredible-sized trout elegantly swimming in
their natural element.
Feeling
rewarded by the vision, we head toward Dardago, where our hotel-restaurant "At
Chalet" is, which is a few kilometres from the area which interests us. The
weather forecast is not the best and foresees rain for a couple of days. At
midnight or so, while going to our rooms to have some rest, we notice the
copious rain splashing down and in the morning, after a sleepless night because
of the concern over the amount of water continuing to fall down, we decide not
to unload the van and go to check the water condition of the spring.
As predicted,
after only 12 hours, the level has risen considerably and I am quite sure that
most of flow has not reached here yet. We spent the whole day long passing
disconsolately between the bar and the restaurant, then back again to the bar
near the spring but rain does not stop, even increasing intensity.
On Sunday
morning, we descend to see what has occurred at the source and sadly the water
level is really high, so high that even in the woodland around the source, the
little springs usually triggered by floods, are now active; the level of the
pond exceeds its banks and water has become cloudy. I have never seen the
Gorgazzo with such a high level, this is partly because the source is far from
where I live and when we go to this spring, we always chose dry periods. So
everyone went back home downhearted, with drooping ears like those of a cocker:
Mother Earth and Uranus made arrangements for putting a spoke in our wheel.
On February
the 1st, we hopefully renew our assault on the spring but also this time the
weather reports indicate light rain and snow above the altitude of 800m; the
water level is not the best, actually it seems to me a somewhat high but many
years have passed and memory could mislead me: let’s try to dive!
After
preparing equipment, on Saturday 2nd, Mosè and myself are ready for action.
Given the current, there is no point in organizing the whole team: first we will
check the possibility to overcome the so-called "window", that is where the
passage narrows and, should we have the better of the current, the remainder
of the group will take the necessary steps to get cracking at preparing the
camp.
Mosè, being
in charge of filming, anticipates me by entering water first. In a short time I
follow him and, after picking up the cylinder to be dropped off at -21m, I let
slip towards the bottom of the pool. I immediately feel the current and I
realize that we will probably not succeed in our goal. I tie the line to the
cement base of the statue at -9m and proceed on, but shortly after, due to the
strong current, I have to grab hold of the rocks with my hands because using
only fins propulsion, I can’t manage to counteract the water power. I get
through the window by using some tricks that I learned playing in rivers and
here I am at -24m, where the gallery is slightly wider and therefore the current
is weaker. However swimming with my fins is useless, indeed despite kicking
vigorously I always remain in the same place. I move some meters towards the
bottom, for while thinking of the fun on the return route as the current will
push me towards the surface making me shoot like a cork from a bottle of
sparkling wine. I turn and I let myself be pulled by the flow of the current:
the feeling is that of incredible impotence against a much greater force than a
human is capable of, and while the walls slip fast by me, here I am at the base
of the window. Fins act as a rudder to avoid slamming against the walls while I
move to the centre of the gallery and with a pair of nimble
back thrusts, I shoot forth into the little
lake: what a pity that my trip has already finished! We are not here in order to
have fun and we become aware that this time too, it will be impossible to
attempt the exploration, which frustrates me a little. In the meantime Mosè
patiently waits for me at the entrance of the cave.
I remain a
few days with Caramella, Cichita and Pifferaio at Polcenigo in vain hope for an
improvement, but the weather does not permit it: on Tuesday the spring
conditions worsen significantly and there is nothing to do but come back home
for the umpteenth time.
The
exploration of Gorgazzo has became more and more of a challenge, a goal to be
achieved, a conclusion well earned. In for a penny, in for a pound just hoping
that the clear cold winter decides not to hinder us. On Sunday 10 February, for
the third time in the same month, “Lather, rinse,
repeat”, we are in the beautiful Polcenigo again, and
it may be due to the wintertime, which seems to have returned, with cold winds
from the north and bringing back average temperatures for February, that the
water level slowly begins to decrease.
On Monday
morning, Pifferaio and I set off for the cave where I can immediately see that
the level has dropped by over one centimetre compared to the previous day; the
weather conditions are stable and the forecast is promising for the whole week.
Will it be the right moment? We decide to get the work re-started.
Like the
previous time, an initial reconnaissance is required to seriously assess the
conditions. I take 15lt cylinders with me two, one containing oxygen and one a
mix of 50% O2 and 20% He. I leave the oxygen cylinder at -9m, this due to the
fact that this is the best point to keep the regulator protected from the lake
gravel, I belay the line and go. While descending towards the window I see that
the current is lower but still disturbing; I proceed on to -25m in order to see
if there is a possible route and once the opportunity to push forward is sure, I
re-surface to inform Pifferaio to get set for the dive: his tasks are already
established and he lowered me the 20lt cylinders, which I will take with me to
the deep section. The visibility is not among the best compared to that one I
might expect at Gorgazzo, but I can not complain because I can easily see a
dozen metres ahead of me. While laying the line, I slowly relive a part of my
underwater life as I see that in some places there are still old pieces of
guideline and a lot of wear on the old rope which reached the depth of -40m.
The fossils
on the walls evoke a time which is difficult for us to imagine when considering
the length of a human life and the period this little shell lived in: they are
now there as witness to a life that existed sixty million years ago when this
place was sea and coral reefs looking very similar to those places that today we
can observe only after several hours of flight.
I recognize
the shaft as if my last dive here had happened just yesterday, yet 13 years have
passed. At the bottom of the shaft, at -87m, I see a plaque attached by a few "maillons
rapides" to a steel cable: I remember who put it there and why. I advance
through the chamber, that rises slightly, until I get to the other shaft going
down to a little less than -100m. I anchor the line at -96m, I hang the 20lt
cylinder and glance at the blackness in front of me. Once more I meditate upon
how much time has passed from the last visit but, since I have finally returned
here again, it is unprofitable to waste too much time at this stage; so I stop
dreaming and start ascending back. I halt at the plate, turn it and read:
“qui perì
tragicamente Maurizio Martini d’anni 22 (Maurizio Martini died here tragically,
aged 22 years)"
27 – 9 – 65
12 – 2 – 87
It was
positioned by Jean Jacques, after having recovered the body of Maurizio, an
exuberant young man from Trieste.
I ascend
while adjusting the line I’d previously laid in a hurry: at -75m I leave the
second 20lt cylinder well fixed to the line and continue to ascend. I see the
lights of Pifferaio at -30m, who is responsible for dropping two cylinders, one
at -55m and one at -36m.
I give him a
hand in his task by grapping the cylinder to be carried up to -55m, I go down
again and lay it on a ledge in the shaft, then I re-start my deco. At -21m we
are together, then I squeeze into the side gallery to avoid the current, I
signal a brief ok for him and he leaves.
In the
company of giant trout, the decompression in the little lake passes quickly; I
try to approach them as much as possible and seeing their extreme naturalness in
breathing, I am green with envy. After 85’ I surface and in addition to
Pifferaio I find the warm sun awaiting and inviting me to change clothes.
On Tuesday
12, I remain alone to monitor the water, but I am not in good shape because a
strong cold and bronchitis prevents me from continually sleeping. After
finishing to prepare the equipment that is to be used on the following day, all
I do is stay in my little warm refuge swallowing heaps of vitamin C. I
absolutely must get on my feet again! In the evening Patrick reaches me.
On Wednesday
13, Mosè arrives in the morning with his loyal video camera. We prepare the
scooter, which will pull me over to where, till now, only Jean Jacques has
managed to get to: at -131m leaving from -100m, after having travelled a gallery
over 100m long and stopping on top of a new shaft. The activity is frenetic:
Patrick unloads the car, Luca completes setting up the equipment and I prepare
both the re-breather and the scooter.
It’s getting
late and even if my favourite hour to dive is from 11.30 to 13.00, I think I
should manage to start on time. While approaching the pool, however, I remember
that I have not tested the scooter and nor have I electrically connected the
motor. I try and, as I foresaw, it does not start; I ask my companions a hex key
to open the rear of the scooter, but no one has got the right key. In a rush I
go back to the base camp, which fortunately is only a few kilometres away and,
in a short time, I am back at the spring. I open the rear of the scooter and
see, as I imagined, the wires are disconnected: in a moment I fix the contacts,
close the panel and now I can finally prepare for the dive.
Mosè has
already entered the water several minutes before me to resume the kitting up,
submersion and to get going. Despite suffering the aftermaths of bronchitis
which has not entirely gone yet, I have not been able to sleep peacefully for
two nights and various concerns make me very tense.
I get fully charged up when remembering the moments of my cave diving
life which have been spent in this amazing spring.
Once I poke
my head down into the water, however, I eventually change into a machine, almost
with no feelings and programmed to explore. Since I’m using the scooter, it is
simple to defeat the current, despite having two cylinders, one 20lt and the
other 7lt hanging off me. I quickly loose Mosè, with whom I have an appointment
in 50 minutes at the deco stop, and here I am at the lip of the shaft: it is not
easy to descend almost vertically, loaded as I am with cylinders and riding a
scooter! At -70m I feel a leak of the 7lt cylinder: I stop, close the valve then
open it again and magically everything starts to work properly. After a stop
lasting no more than a few seconds, and going further on to the depth of -87m,
my helmet gets bashed on the ceiling. “Hey, come on!” I should have seen that
the cave roof lowers at that point as the gallery rises a bit! I get to my reel
at -96m, I grab it, and riding my scooter, I progress towards that blackness I
have dreamed for years to illuminate.
My heart
skips a beat as I see there are still traces of Jean Jacques’s passage in the
gallery: I spot his two lines on which there are characteristic signs that I
know very well and recognize. The gallery doesn’t change its morphology as far
as the Martini chamber, indeed here I find myself in a tube with very smooth
walls, giving the first signs of morphological change. Then I reach the almost
horizontal stretch beyond -100m, completely notched, with a clay bottom and
boulders everywhere. Along the walls I can see the layering of the rock and in
some spots the gallery is extraordinarily rich in fossils. The size is so great
as to soften the effects of the current during the flooding and prevent the line
from breaking. As the line becomes just one, I pass -117m, and shortly after,
here I am at the point where the exploration of Jean Jacques ended. I am excited
while stopping to observe his still very visible tied belay: the line runs
around two stones forming a triangle whose tip is pointing towards the exit.
This is just incredible! Not even if he had done it on purpose, would he have
managed so well. Also his description of the shaft corresponds to what I can
see, although I have now only few meters of visibility. When we were together at
the spring, it was rare to find the visibility less than twenty meters.
In his notes
Jean Jacques had written: "I carry out the dive on January 1st 1992.
I use a 10lt cylinder containing a light surox to achieve -42m. I will begin to
count the diving time from the depth of -42m. I take a 12lt cylinder containing
a mixture composed of 35% helium to get to -90m: I will drop it next to the 20lt
emergency tank. I carry on the dive using a back-mounted set of three 20lt
trimix cylinders; cylinders incorporate a variable percentage of helium ranging
from 50% to 70%. The reel is placed at -110m ready to use. I follow the old line
laid in 1987 as far as the end at -117m. The old Italian reel, that is actually
a cord extension reel, is still there: I will try to retrieve it on the way
back. Further on, the unknown begins with a gallery between 7m and 8m wide,
between 4m and 5m high, obstructed with blocks, continuing to gently decline. At
-125m, the gallery is choked with boulders in all its width, and I am forced to
ascend back a little bit. Moving on, an impressive shaft lays inclined at 50°,
and which I can not see the very bottom, even when I attach the line at -131m.
On the right side, I clearly distinguish the layers following the shaft at the
same angle. As I take the way back, 15' have passed since I left -42m. I take
reading with the compass: 240°, 60° on the way in. I retrieve my old reel, but
the snoopy loop breaks and I almost immediately loose it. I will do it the next
time. On the way up I recover my 12lt and ascend again up to -60m where a diver
from Pordenone has left a 12lt compressed air cylinder. I open the valve and I
notice that the first stage is not well screwed on. I adjust it and I check my
watch and note that just a little more of 20' of diving have passed. After a
couple of breaths, the regulator becomes very twitchy and it almost blocks:
rather disagreeable having no air on your back!. Therefore I take the 12lt light
trimix again, which was used to descend and I ascend up to -50m for the first
deco stages. With the deco stop being completed, I go to -42m where I pick up
the twin 10lt, which is loaded with 40% oxygen and go down again to resume my
stop at -45m. Decompression follows its monotonous stages, but I am not aware of
the time passing by because I am completely absorbed with the beautiful
surroundings I have just discovered”.
From this
point on the exploration will be mine, although for every metre that I gain,
there will be a thought dedicated to Jean Jacques. I park my vehicle and a
little past Jean Jacques’ limit, the shaft becomes vertical; I replace the reel
at -136m and deposit one of the two 20lt cylinders for emergency use on the next
dive. While hovering down vertically, I see a step below me, so I move on
towards the heart of the shaft; not even managing to contemplate it all, I
assume that the shaft is at least ten meters in diameter. I go down a bit more,
stopping at a huge boulder and, after placing the reel on it, glance down
towards the dark bottom and catch sight of another step. For the moment the
exploration is more than enough. I am at -157m and 20’ have passed from the
start.
It is time to
ascend along the line that I can now see perfectly vertical, while on the
previous way down I felt it inclined: it is strange how different the feelings
are between when you go down and when you come up! At the point where I replace
the reel, I retrieve the half empty one and, as I see the light of the torch, I
take hold of the scooter and proceed toward the exit. The first stage I do at
-105m., where I just have the time to verify and organize the decompression,
then reach -96m where I leave my 20lt cylinder ready to be taken back on the
next exploration. Going back along the shaft, once more the memories flood back
into my mind.
During the
deco stops, the current is problematic to me only in a couple of points where I
am forced to keep close to the wall to find a calm area. I am at -36m, when
above me Mosè’s camera lights peer out. He keeps me company even though there is
really very little to film in the gallery, given its narrow size. Later, Patrick
also comes with his camera and while he induces his own fancies by snapping some
pictures, I truly feel back in the human consortium. In addition to all that, I
am supplied with a battery for heating and drinks for re-hydration. I come to
the surface after 210’.
Dear Jean
Jacques, you are not there anymore, you are not here to smile and be proud of
our results: a little genuine sadness in the moment of happiness seizes me. I
take off my kit and I go and drink a relaxing hot herbal tea together with
Patrick and Luca.
Thursday is a
relax day: Patrick and I, we go to the swimming pool for a little training, then
in the afternoon, with Barbi who has joined us, control the equipment.
According to
Friday’s schedule we should shoot some videos, but hearing the news that
Ignatius will arrive in the morning with a new scooter which has a better
performance, I change my plans and decide to set out on exploration.
Everything
goes smoothly, equipment is ready and at 11.00 we head toward the source where
we are expected by the Guardia di Finanza diver’s team of Trieste. After doing
ceremonial introductions among the members of the two groups, we all haul
equipment to the spring edge. I am compelled to undertake an interview for a
documentary, but time passes quickly and although my interview seems to proceeds
weirdly better than normal, I have to go because it is getting late. At last I
am free from official commitments, so I quickly get ready and enter the water at
13.15. I am quite nervous because I had not been able to concentrate properly
and I don’t feel in such fine form, but this does not give the scooter a
problem, in fact my “automatic pilot” quickly drives me into the shaft.
During the
descent I experience two free flow failures of the cylinder feeding the closed
circuit "Now it is clear, as I exit, the regulator will need to be serviced". A
little way below, while moving head down, the line snags on the scooter’s
battery isolator trigger. Becoming more and more nervous, I get to -96m where I
take the 20lt cylinder that I will use as safety on the dive. For a short
stretch I will be equipped with three 20lt cylinders and one 7lt. On the
horizontal path everything seems to go well: at -110m I put down a cylinder
which will remain there for the remainder of the expedition, acting as safety.
Shortly
after, I get entangled in the line again with a carabiner and despite having a
few doubts as to whether to go on or go back, I finally prefer to continue on
toward the bottom. Here I am at -131m where I leave the scooter attached to the
loop knot on Jean Jacques’ line and start the descent to the reel that I can
already easily see from a few metres away, since the visibility has improved
over these last few days. Sheer emotion: that is what
I feel while clasping and unlocking the reel and then turning towards the
unknown which is just waiting for me, alone as I am, in an environment whose
hostile appearance only turns out to be a test of my own ability to handle the
situation appropriately. Or could I be wrong?
The direction
is what I had already looked at: the cave does not level off as I expected, but
drops down with a strong inclination; a few metres below, for a moment I must
fin to move horizontally, but then again, the tunnel slopes down. I belay the
line on some fossils that are attached to the walls. I am at -170m and I get a
look around: the shaft is at least 15m in diameter, I am not able to give a more
accurate estimate.
What is truly
awe-inspiring is seeing the bottom rock that breaks with a sharp-cut and beyond
this natural line, only the blackness, that disquieting blackness that lures me!
It is right now, with me suspended in the water and hanging over nothing, that I
can let myself sink down toward the bottom, but I feel that I cannot breath very
well. I know that, taken by the desire to make up for lost time, I finned too
fast while descending to get to this point. Facing this situation I cannot do
anything but halt, and before rising up again, I belay the line to a projection
of the rock, lock off the reel and leave it hanging a few centimetres under the
knot.
From Jean
Jacques’ exploratory end thus far, I have travelled almost eighty metres. I
begin going up while admiring the walls encrusted with fossils, I focus on
slowing down my breathing rate while slowly swimming but at the depth of -160m a
sharp pain flares in my left pectoral muscle that causes me some discomfort in
breathing and I am not able to give an explanation for it. The rising proceeds
slowly until I see the scooter’s light further above. I continue ascending
upwards, while keeping a few meters from the wall to enjoy the shapes of the
shaft, until I can see the scooter. I come closer and note that it is not in the
point where I’d left it: it is likely that the safety sling had slipped off the
line while I was hastily opening the carabiner to attach it to the line and the
present result is that the carabiner is attached to the loop but the scooter is
about two metres away, resting on the floor. My stroke of luck was that having
the scooter in a slightly negative trim, it’d remained in place. What’s certain
is that if it had been otherwise, the current would either have made it ascend
without me or, on the contrary, I would have seen it nose diving down to explore
the depth of the shaft by itself without me.
For today
I’ve had enough I tell myself while returning and playing around between the
lines, pulled by the power of the scooter motor: deco stops let me observe huge
quantities of fossils; at -96m, I decide for convenience to leave my two
adventure fellows, the 20lt tanks, together with the emergency cylinder. Once
the little shaft is ascended, I enter the Martini chamber then, once again, I am
at the base of the shaft that leads to -21m. After 75 minutes, Barbi and
Pifferaio’s lights appear above me. Barbi resumes the deco, while Pifferaio
takes care of the lights and helps me. It's a beehive of activity in the small
environment: all these people, equipment, and the effect of current create some
confusion. I get to -21m and immediately after some unpleasant news comes: I
feel the burning confined to my lower back area, clearly increasing. What I can
do? I do not know, but in a jiffy I grab hold of the rocks to pull myself up to
-36m. In the meanwhile neither of my companions have time to notice the
situation I am in. When I see them coming toward me at least a minute after,
since the burning gives no signs of decreasing but even increases, a thought
comes into my head. I cut off the power from the electric jacket and write to
Pifferaio on the board that he has handed me, "I feel my bum burning, I do not
understand, but it may be…". I wait for a moment and the burning has already
disappeared, soon I am rewarded with the answer "It may be the electric jacket".
I restart ascending and there is no trace of the burning any longer. I regain my
calm, even if I will have to remain in the water without the comfort of the warm
jacket. Drinking warm tea during
the decompression will somehow remain a comfort, anyway.
Just a short time before surfacing, I
try to reconnect the jacket and everything seems to run well: I wonder what the
hell’d happened before. I did not dare to re-establish the connection sooner,
because it would have been embarrassing to read in the newspaper: "Grilled cave
diver closed his dive with trout providing assistance”.
After 280' I surface pleased with the
final result but not with the way the dive was carried out.
On Saturday, even if I am still
disappointed with myself and I’d rather not enter the water, I dive to allow
Barbi to film, while Caramella deals with the lights. Our trio is joined up by
Mosé with his camera, so the task becomes difficult for me because going forward
and backward, continually blinded by the powerful lights, is not so easy.
Despite that, I enjoy the situation and begin to play around with the scooter
until I am carried away by the euphoria of the moment. I manage to do a
360° roll with
the scooter: with lights and filming tapes exhausted,
nothing left to do but re-emerge.
In the evening who better could arrive
than the super photographer Roberto Rinaldi. Together with him I set the dive
for the day after, then we all take delight in watching his pictures taken
around the globe both under water and on land, for instance he shows us some
wonderful shoots with giant tiger sharks, nautiluses and manta rays.
On Sunday morning, after taking some
photos near the source with the staff of Lota Lota, which came to see us,
splosh! we are back in the water.
The goal is to get off -100m, with Roberto carrying two cameras and once we are
get to this depth he induces his own fancies by snapping some pictures
while I start collecting fossils. With my bag filled, we ascend together until
the Martini room where Roberto takes pictures of the layers of limestone, while
I go around with another camera in order to exploit all the available shots.
While going up again along the shaft, Roberto snaps at each change of
morphology; then, at approximately -40m we see Mosé heading towards us with the
camcorder to film our ascension. Back to the pool, Pifferaio kindly takes the
two cameras out the water, changes the film and dives again to allow us to
complete the work.
In a playful moment, I ask Roberto for
an exchange of roles, so I find myself with the bulky camera in hand, so unknown
to me that I even do not know where the button to be pushed down to snap the
picture is. Shown how to do it by Roberto, I am already hovering upside down
while operating. Hitting the surface of that frozen water, we found ourselves
breathing an air of festivity out there: this sort of excitement materializes
itself in a table full of the local specialities such as cheeses and salami,
wine and anything else you may want...
On Monday, with Pifferaio, I reassess
the equipment and prepare the scooter with Mosè’s camera mounted on it,
including the two 150W lights: in such a way it is such a strange shape that
looks like a chopper: tomorrow we will put it into water and will see how the
trim can be corrected. Moreover one light bulb has burned out, but after
searching all the photographer’s shop in the area, including Pordenone, we do
not find the same type: Jose waits at the bar near the source.
Tuesday seems to proceed in slow motion:
I take some time to come back to Aviano and next to Pordenone to find the
infamous bulb. It is not before noon that I arrive at the spring and I find Jose
in the bar nice and warm.
The light, that we have finally mounted
on the scooter, is very bright, and its 300W it is visible even in the sunlight.
I test that the camera works, but there would be many other surprises ahead. The
first comes when I realize that the battery is drained. So, I quickly race back
to the hut to pick up the spare one.
At long last we lower the scooter into
the water and begin to rig it with floats: its huge battery-pack is very heavy,
therefore despite using all the available floats, the scooter still sinks even
if only slightly.
I am forced to borrow a mask from Josè
because I left mine at the hut. It is already 14.30 when I enter the water.
The scooter which I use is a tow-behind
type, slower than the more powerful ones, but efficient to carry the camcorder.
At the horizontal gallery, considering the negative buoyancy of the DPV’s prow,
I turn the motor switch to “on” and I grab at the lights’ arms and mount it. It
is easier for me to direct it in this way, because I manage to balance it more
easily, and the low speed, due to its bulk and weight, keeps the driving safe.
Taking account of the relative low visibility and the pace of progress in this
gallery trip with the other type of scooter on the last days, I now realise
that, thanks to the 300W lights I can see various branches that I was unable to
see before. I reach the shaft at -130m, turn around on top trying to frame the
abyss, then I scooter back to Jean Jacques’ belay. A little further on I stop to
retrieve some fossils, and in order to do this I choose a spot where, with the
hammer, I can easily break the rock. Here the current carries away the muddy
suspension to a lineless tunnel that goes who knows where. I resume my way back
along the line and after a few meters I find myself in an area where there are
so many fossils that they completely cover the walls; -Damn my luck!- I tell
myself, but it would have been enough to memorise the point on the way in.
Almost 30’ have passed, the lights still
hold good and I direction the front of the scooter toward the points where I
think there could be something. Following the right hand wall, at -108m I am
almost about to slip into a lineless gallery; I stop, I head to the left, a
couple of meters further on the clearly visible line, I gain some fifteen meters
and, again on my right I catch sight of a gallery, which must be the one Jean
Jacques marked in the sketch of the deep section: essentially, between the
parallel shaft leading off from the Martini chamber and as far as -130m, there
are two other by-passes. I start the ascent, then, at approximately -50m,
interrupt the filming work because Mosè has already shot here and visibility has
deteriorated, because of the silt I have kicked up on the floor.
On Wednesday we take a day off to relax
and once called into we have checked the equipment, we are free to spend time on
other things.
Thursday morning I wake up with my right
ear eustachian tube completely blocked by catarrh.
Despite this I remain because I hope for an improvement. To accelerate my
recovery I use various types of nasal sprays. I also try a natural system, that
is to go to a spa in Pordenone where I spend the afternoon in a Turkish bath:
The “wet heat” provides benefit insomuch as in the evening I definitely feel
better.
On Friday I feel quite well, forecasts
foresee stable weather again, therefore the conditions of the spring won’t
change. We are alone, Josè and myself, and I can postpone the dive for a day. So
I have time to treat myself in Aviano: there is a swimming pool there where I
swim for more than four kilometres, I stop for a bite to eat and then in the
afternoon, off I go to sweat in a Turkish bath. Even so I have very pessimistic
feelings: such negative thoughts crowd my mind that in the evening I plan to
recover the equipment from the cave without attempting a new exploration.
On late Friday evening the "Ol gomista"
and the "Ol fiorist" arrive, two components of Lota Lota Sub, dying to give us a
hand.
On Saturday morning the group increases:
we are joined by Mosè and his wife followed by the mascot, Petra (a female
Rottweiler dog), by Sergio and Caramella. Though not having decided what to do,
the equipment is enough for a push dive. This is because I would not want to get
to -136m, where the emergency cylinder is positioned, become exited about going
on but being prevented from effectively doing so because of the lack of an
adequate redundancy on the open circuit. At the spring I immediately notice that
the water level has dropped yet again and that the visibility has improved. Gigi,
the manager of the bar near the source, asks about my intentions. I reply that I
intend to quit and recover everything because I am not in great shape, either
physically or mentally, but I would finally make up my mind only when I reached
the site.
I decide with Mosè about filming in the
shaft, with Josè and Caramella to help: an appointment with Moses after 60' and
with José after 90'; Caramella will be in charge for the remainder of deco
depending on what I do.
The people who surrounds me realize that
I am not that brilliant and expect some explanation from me that I know will
unobtainable because I don’t even understand myself why I feel confused.
With the scooter placed in water, on
which I attach a cave sack and a hammer to collect some fossils from the deep
area, I start getting ready for the dive. Inside me the desire resurfaces to go
deeper and further on, to see beyond; once again curiosity begins rising from
the ranks. After having made a few little repairs to the fin and to the
computer, two steps forward and splash! I enter the water.
From the edge they hands me the 20lt
cylinder feeding my reb, I connect the hose to the breathing set, switch on the
torches, grab the scooter, position it right under me, move myself toward the
middle of the pool: with a tuck dive I glide into the water. At -6m I verify the
analysers: everything goes well. I go down while clearing my ears more often as
usual, I appreciate the visibility, even thought it is not the best, anyway at
the moment the Gorgazzo is definitely worthy of its fame. I descend slowly
because of the frequent equalizations, but everything else proceeds perfectly
and arrive at -96m after 5’. I collect the bottom emergency cylinder, being laid
down a few days before, to check its regulator: that is ok. I advance downward
since I am by now almost dead set on going further on with the exploration. As I
go in further through the shaft, I have to go back a couple of metres to leave
the scooter; it is the look at the black void under me that in the blink of an
eye stirs my decision: to push forward. I take it easy when going straight down
into the void while keeping the line on my left and looking at the walls that
surround me. For a moment I cannot see the line any longer, so with a fin stroke
I swerve my free-fall to the left and find it again. I am at -150m: I see the
boulder on which the line is fixed; from that point, I have to go right and by
using my fins, which is my only propulsion, have to change direction. At -165m
there is a short, almost horizontal stretch ten metres long leading to a chamber
displaying many layers of rock on its walls: I think I find myself in a zone
with an intersection of faults. The layers are placed perpendicular to each
other, I can quietly observe them while I let myself descend towards the reel.
My reel, for days locked in the darkness of the cave waiting to run its line. I
can see it from 10m away and this allows me to realize once again that the
visibility has improved considerably; I can also spot the walls of the shaft
though they are about twenty meters distance from me. At -189m, I am at the
limit of my previous exploration but now it is easy to go over: I unlock the
reel and get going down the walls rich in fossils.
After a dozen metres I spot the bottom,
fin horizontally in a gallery of fifteen by ten metres. I can hardly believe
what I am observing: ”How nice this place is! Where have I ended up? What an
emotion! The computer reads -204m: I feel fine and I am not affected by any
tremors, which is probably due to the last few days’ dives which have helped to
provide a good training foundation. By keeping a close eye on the oxygen
pressure of my closed circuit, careful not to exceed 1 bar, I can see an
analyzer that goes off and, at -212m, I decide to head back. I can not find any
belay points nearly because the whole floor is smooth and slopes at least 50°. A
few metres from me is the lip of another shaft: -How I’d love to go and explore
that right now! Damn the analyzers!- I leave the reel on the bottom but I can
not block the line because the elastic band breaks, so I tie a knot around the
knob and start ascending. Reading the distance on my line markers, I realise
that it is -115m, which added to the 5m dispensing by the other reel and also
the previous meters, bring the total to 440m of linear exploration from entrance
and 606m of flooded galleries.
Going back I get all excited about this
beautiful route with extraordinary fossils shooting out of smooth walls and
ceilings; I propose to myself to return one day to film them as well as the
gallery and, why not, to push down a little more. This dive is the best one that
I have ever done at such depths and everything has gone perfectly, from the
breathing to the functioning of the equipment: it is a pity about the analyzer.
At -150m, I stop a couple of minutes to
look my computer: 25 minutes have passed from -212m.
At -130m, after having collected three
20lt cylinders, I piggyback the scooter (the Italian
translation would be funny because we nicknamed the diving scooter “maialino”
which means “piglet”!) and start ascending. At -124m,
I stop to take some fossils off the walls, including a significantly beautiful
one, but then I halt since the effort required for this work, could also create
troublesome consequences such as ill-effects to my arms: I put everything away
and get going to the next stages of decompression. At -110m, I recover a 20lt
cylinder, so now there are four; at -96m here is the fifth to join the others;
at -70m I can but tow the sixth 20lt cylinder, and start ascending the shaft
keeping the scooter between my legs. After
70’ Mosè’s lights illuminate the path
from above: I write the result on the slate, I look at him rejoicing and then he
returns to film the ascent. At -24m, on the short horizontal stretch, I drop off
the pile of gear and finally free of the weight of the cylinders, I can ascend
more comfortably. I am at -21m when I meet Josè too. He hands me the batteries
and something to drink while I am writing where the materials are positioned. We
separate because I have to wait for a few hours before leaving, so I will see
him passing by there again. Mosè never ceases to film any relevant details in
view of the video editing. Josè is returning with all the equipment: the
scooter, seven 20lt cylinders, another one of 15lt and his one of 12lt. A
beautiful stack to be filmed by Mosè. Caramella pops in when there are still 90'
decompression left bringing with him the replacement battery and serving me out
some warm tea, actually so hot that it needed to be cooled for a few minutes in
the 11° C source water.
Roaming around between boulders and
trout in the pool, I see a timid white-clawed crayfish popping up and once it is
clear to him I am a potential enemy, enters his home again.
Minutes tick away and my deco proceeds
smoothly, so I surface 280' after the dive started. Lazily floating in the water
and looking up at the sky, I remember Jean Jacques, our explorations, our
adventures: I am alone now, with just my faraway look, but this will not take
away the passion that he has pass onto me and we have shared over the years we
spent together.
This is the new Profile of
the Cave:
To date, the Gorgazzo is
the deepest Italian spring ever explored
Partecipants:
Alessandro Fantini ( Pifferaio )
Claudio Carnello ( Caramella )
Ignazio Zoda
Josè Lamblelet
Luca Pedrali ( Mosè )
Patrick Deriaz
Roberto Barbierato ( Barbi )
Roberto Rinaldi
Luigi Casati (Gigi)
I thanks:
Comune di Polcenigo
(PN)
Lota Lota Sub
Nucleo Sommozzatori del Reparto Operativo Aeronavale della Guardia di Finanza -
Trieste
