I set off with a mixture of trepidation, nerves, and fear. Okay, and a degree of excitement too. 18 months ago I did a Hillocks to Whalf exchange with some friends, and before ascending Steve and I went exploring for something he'd heard of called Meccano passage. After a couple of dead ends we found it, and went down a little way until coming to a body sized tube at the bottom of a short drop in the floor. I tried to look in head first but dropped myself on my neck which hurt. Steve went in foot first for a body length but came back when he hit water, then we left it for a future day since the others would probably have finished prusikking out by now.
A bit of reading up on the internet told us it was the connection to Knotlow, and it sounded scary but interesting without being dangerous, so it prompty got added to the wishlist. Steve has been back to do the trip another time but I wasn't available, so I jumped(ish) at the chance when I heard of a TSG/KCC trip this week.
Sitting at the top of Knotlow climbing shaft, feeling the fresh air as the beautiful day dropped into night, I watched down the Chapel Dale engine shaft as Wayne rigged a rebelay at Chain Passage, while out of the corner of my eye Glyn, John and Eszter disappeared one by one down the climbing shaft. I bounced down the springy new 9mm rope towards the sound of whooping, and we reconvened in the start of Meccano passage. A couple of short sections led to a downwards slope to a lowering in the roof, which was the start of the flooded coffin level. Wayne went first having been here before, and after a short while sounds emitting back down the passage that sounded like he was being attacked by some kind of sea creature. Thankfully this was followed by a shout of "I'm out of the water", and John followed on down. Some mumbled voices, some more splashing, then the splashing appeared to be getting louder, and John popped back out again. It turns out the dry end of the passage is a little restrictive to get through with SRT kit, so John came back to take his off in the larger passage, and somehow Wayne stripped off in situ. I felt glad I'd anticipated this and had already stuffed my kit into a bag, although unfortunately this meant I was instructed to head down the passage next while John de-kitted!
Being with strangers I didn't really have the option to procrastinate while composing myself like I usually do, so I posted myself head first into the passage and just started crawling, one hand and one elbow in the water, with head just clear of the ceiling. After not very far my bag started to get jammed between my thigh and the wall, so I hooked it over my bent knee and dragged it along behind me. Then the roof lowered and I transitioned automatically to lying flat out, and the bag strap went sliding down my leg, and I just had to hope it stayed hooked over my welly. What with the weighlessness of my body in the water negating any need to crawl, my legs motionless in order that I didn't lose my bag, and enough room to turn my head and look around me, my elbows propelled me down the passage with very little effort and surprisingly little fear. It was quite peaceful in there and I relished my unique situation. I think it would be a different story if I'd been first down, as most of my feeling of being at-ease came from Wayne waiting at the end and reassuring me that I was nearly there, and that despite the fact that the roof was still lowering it was always possible to breathe.
The lowest part comes when you still can't see the end, with a smooth flat block of rock forming the ceiling meaning you have to turn your head, but that's the end and then the whole passage tilts up a little taking you out of the water, and kinks to the left which helps you to turn onto your back for the exit. Fortunately when I dragged myself out of the water like the dinosaur crocodiles that beached up to land and stood up as humans (that's how we evolved, isn't it?) I could feel the weight of my SRT kit hanging off my foot so didn't have to worry that someone else would end up crawling over it and getting stuck. When exiting the passage on your back you have to lie in all the water you've acumulated and you realise how cold it is - I hadn't noticed when entering the passage as I had been so absorbed by the situation. On exiting into the larger passage I felt a little sick (strange how one's throat can dry out so much with so much water around) but happy, and I knew from here I'd done the rest so there were no surprises. I had to just trust that the CO2 problems in this area are no longer an issue, as I'd remembered to bring a lighter for the first time, but the pocket I'd put it in had filled with water rendering it useless. The other three popped through with no fuss and we started working our way back to the surface. Despite thinking I'd remember the way back to the main chamber I didn't, in fact I was convinced it went up a gravel slope rather than through the crawl to the left, so Wayne had to put up with a succession of calls of "are you sure it's this way?", "are you sure you're sure?", "are you really sure, because i'm positive it's… oh sod it, I'm coming".
I must say the company was great - despite only having met Glyn before and none of the others they always seemed to be there when you needed them, either when you wanted a bit of reassurance or when you weren't sure of the way. I couldn't remember much of Hillocks at all (18 months seems to be enough to wipe the memory) but did manage to recall the location of the parallel passage so we could climb out in tandem (although later on I encouraged John down an incorrect squeeze). Back at the surface I volunteered to go back down the Knotlow engine shaft and de-rig Chain passage as nobody had come out that way. I wanted to try out my footloop as I've recently shortened it and wanted to see if it's better like that - it isn't (if it ain't broke, don't fix it, should be my motto next time). Then all that was left to do was debried liquidly at the Bulls Head and say a longer hello to the group we'd passed in Hillocks travelling in the opposite direction.
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