Into The Deepest And Darkest

by Joseph Emmanuel

  Don described what happened next;

  “At first everything was going fine, the water was crystal clear but the only thing you could see was the rope as it dropped below you. The events that followed were unexpected, and were in the worst-case scenario; little did I know that I would be the person that would fully utilise the whole emergency system that I had set up. As I passed the last of the cylinders on the line at 150m I knew there was a problem. I could see no ascent bubbles from David; I would have expected them at this stage, as I was to meet him at 220m. Still descending I looked into the darkness. I could see a single light on the bottom - it was approximately where I would have calculated Deon's body to be and it was not moving. […I resolved to carry on down to David to try and help. (Shirley, “Nitrox Diver”, Spring 2005)

  As a deep cover diver I know the thoughts that went through Don’s mind. I can only admire him for taking the decision he did. In his usual thorough and meticulous way Don had planned for the possibility that he would have to go to the bottom. There is no other way he would even have thought about it. It would simply have been suicide. But the final decision is always up to the diver on the spot as it were. No one can tell you to what to do in these circumstances. No one will hold it against you if you elect to turn your dive then and there. Only you will really know how close you came to maybe saving a life. Don knew full well that the smallest problem for a diver at Dave’s depth would be almost impossible to recover from. Indeed would probably prove fatal. He knew that to attempt a rescue was an incredibly dangerous proposition. Still he continued his descent. Unbelievably, at about 250 metres Don heard a click, followed by a sound he’d hoped not to hear on this dive of all dives, a dull thud. It meant the computer that controlled his gas supply had imploded! Everything was on manual from now on. At this point Don had to take the decision every support diver dreads. He was forced to halt his descent and abort his dive whilst still not knowing if his friend was coming back. He was still twenty metres shy of the bottom. He could clearly see Dave’s light, still a prone beacon in the darkness. Don’s ordeal was far from over however.

  His equipment was designed to allow manual operation and Don is an expert in this technique. Had that been all that went wrong he would have been fine. But some two hours into his dive, still at forty five metres, Don felt himself starting to lose consciousness, and then: “The whole cave began to spin. I started working on instinct alone […] All the while fighting vertigo and vomiting with every move I made.” (Shirley, “Nitrox Diver”, Spring 2005)

  It is a credit to Don’s determination to survive, and to the thoroughness of his training, not to mention his faith in his equipment and perhaps more importantly, in his team, that in spite of a vestibular bend which made him so nauseous that he was throwing up underwater all through his gruelling thirteen hour decompression he managed to run his rebreather manually for the majority of his ascent. Thanks to an excellent backup team Don was able to almost complete his decompression and was in the on site recompression chamber within twenty two minutes of surfacing. Don responded well to the initial treatment, and although he had to undergo ten additional oxygen therapy sessions, he is back diving today.

  Dave Shaw never came back from his epic attempt to recover Deon Dreyer’s body. The successful rescue of Don Shirley, from a dive that I can safely say would have killed many, if not most, other divers, serves as testimony to the fact that deep cave diving is not a solo activity. In spite of the fact that cave divers often do solo dives, it takes a dedicated team to safely accomplish dives like this one.

  As I’ve indicated, in the short time I knew Dave Shaw I had come to like him and to regard him as a skilful and careful diver. Exactly what went wrong on that morning in January can never truly be known. But it’s yet another warning that in deep cave diving, anything can happen. And when the unexpected does happen, there are precious few options open to the diver. Before his untimely accident Dave said to me that exploration of the cave was the thing for him, not just the depth for its own sake. I can only trust, that having died doing what he so clearly loved, on a mission he obviously believed in, Dave Shaw is resting in peace.

  Deon goes home

  The postscript to this tragic story is that almost a week after Dave Shaw went missing the remaining dive team members, together with divers from the South African Police, were pulling out the shot lines from the cave. As the now tangled lines were being pulled up one of the police divers noticed what appeared to be a body trapped beneath the roof of the cave at about forty metres. Incredibly, it was Dave Shaw’s body. Dave had become entangled in the lines at the bottom of the cave, and when the lines were pulled up so was he. Even stranger, Deon was attached to Dave by the slimmest of lines. Dave’s dive torch cable had snagged on the three millimetre line that Dave had originally laid to mark the position of Deon’s body. So it came to be that both Dave Shaw and Deon Dreyer were recovered.

  In incidents of this nature we usually rely largely on eyewitness accounts and panels of enquiry to piece together what may have happened to cause a diver to die. However, in a strange way, Dave Shaw was able to present his own evidence to those of us wondering what actually happened to him on this last dive. Mounted on his helmet, in a manner similar to that used by sky-divers, Dave was carrying a camera.

  Eventually those of us close to the expedition team were given an opportunity to view this footage. To describe what I saw as an eerie experience is not adequate. Here I was, watching from Dave’s perspective, as he slowly dropped through the crack and down into the darkness. Almost in slow motion, I see the shot-line flash in and out of frame as he heads for the bottom. For a while there is nothing else to see. Then suddenly, there is the bottom and thin white cave line is everywhere he looks. Every cave diver is drilled from day one to be extremely careful to keep any lines we lay taught. Loose line is a trap waiting to be sprung. I can only guess what went through Dave’s mind when he saw the line.

  Next thing we see is Deon Dreyer’s body, lying limp on the bottom. When Dave had first found Deon in 2004 he had tried to pull him out of the silt that held him fast to the bottom, but he reported that he become light-headed and had to leave him. Watching the video it appeared to me that Dave had indeed freed Deon from the mud. As Dave reached for Deon we see the body is drifting just off the bottom. The plan had been for Dave to cut Deon from his dive kit and pull a special body bag over him. Now Dave had a body that moved away every time he tried to cut away the harness.

  After only a moment we see Dave begin to tire. His movements become slower, less coordinated. I see him drop his dive-light and it goes in front of the white cave-line. Alarms start clanging in my head. People in the audience comment “he’s tangled, can’t he see”. Dave pulls out scissors, but can’t seem to get the line between the blades. We were watching Dave Shaw die.

  As disturbing as it was for me, it was much more emotional for Verna who was watching with me and for the rest of his friends who’d been on the expedition. I could see them almost willing him to keep breathing, even though we knew he wouldn’t. The doctors who did the autopsy on Dave’s body eventually concluded that as a result of the extreme depth and the hard work he was doing he had a lethal build up of carbon dioxide in his body.

  Finally Deon Dreyer’s family could bury their son. In accordance with his family’s wishes, Dave’s ashes were scattered over Badgat. At last this chapter in the history of Boesmansgat is closed.

  Dave Shaw and Don Shirley decompressing after Dave’s successful 270 metres world record rebreather dive in 2004 (Courtesy Theo van Eeden)

  This tragic beginning to 2005 was just the start of a very significant diving year for me. It was soon after Dave’s dive that Nuno announced to the team that he wanted to go back to the Red Sea in June. He was ready to make another attempt at the world record. Nothing would stop me going this time.

  Nuno sets another record-in the Gulf of Aqaba

  The team prepares

  Nuno Gomes’ first tr
ip to the Red Sea in 2004 had resulted in a new Red Sea record of 271 metres. It also left him even more determined to once again become the deepest scuba diver in history. Around March 2005 the elements of sponsorship, time and people began to come together and, from his base in South Africa, Nuno began to assemble a new team of divers from around the world. The core would be the same as the year before: Gareth Lowndes, Pieter Venter, Lenné Foster-Jones and Theo Van Eeden. In addition, since I was now diving fit, Nuno asked me to join him again. Chris Serfontein, who’d been part of the successful expeditions to dive with Coelacanth in May 2001, and Sean French a highly qualified hyperbaric medical technician, Paramedic, DAN Instructor Trainer and the medical support for Nuno’s 1996 record, completed the South African component.

  Little did I realise that the complete team would comprise no less than twenty support divers and videographers and come from a range of countries including Poland, America, Italy, Australia and England. We even had film crew from Russia come along to interview Nuno for a documentary they were working on. But that was all to come later.

  First we had to begin doing serious workup dives with Nuno using his set of four eighteen litres cylinders tanks on his back and two stage cylinders slung at his sides. It was imperative that he be as comfortable as possible in this gear because his record dive would require that he have this set on for up to twelve hours. We began the build up in Miracle Waters, largely because it is thirty metres deep. This depth is really the minimum we would need to dive if we were to gain any adaptation to nitrogen narcosis. Thirty metres also gets you into decompression time fairly quickly. We needed to remind ourselves how it felt to be underwater for two hours or more at a time. As a bonus, Miracle Waters is located conveniently close to all the team members. On a more personal note, I knew that Nuno also wanted to be sure that I really was diving fit.

  Beginning around the 27th April, we did a series of dives that had thirty minute at thirty metres which meant the total dive times ran to an average of 90 minutes, and required quite a number of decompression stops. If I had any problems with diving as such, these dives should bring it out before I got to the Red Sea. As a precaution against the cold and exertion that long periods at thirty metres in Miracle Waters implied, all the dives were done on air with oxygen for decompression.

  The next phase of our preparation took us back to Wondergat. The plan was for us all to do a Trimix dive to the back of the cave. The dive has a maximum depth of about 60 metres, but this is subject to the level of the ground water in the area. Nuno would have liked the entire core team to come along, but as things turned out, only Nuno, Pieter Venter and I actually made it. We spent three very pleasant days in the South African Autumn camping at Wondergat and did four dives, one to forty two metres to acclimatise and then two air dives to 54 metres and finally a trimix dive.

  Going back to Wondergat was a big step for me. It was the final test to prove to myself and (although he never mentioned it) to Nuno that I was fit to dive deep again. It took me just one dive to confirm what I guess I already knew. I was as comfortable at depth as I’d ever been. The dive to forty metres takes one down a shot line to a metal grid that marks the entrance to the main cave. It was an early morning dive so we were the only people in the water. I remember the water was a bit hazy as we dropped down onto the grid. Visibility was three to four metres, Because of our regular diving at Miracle Waters, I felt relatively clear of the narc’s and could see that my companions were also functioning well. Nuno took the lead and we headed off the grid and across the hole. The bottom of Wondergat has a series of lines laid to guide divers around and more importantly out of the deep cave on one side. On this dive we swam away from the cave mouth and up and over a large rubble slope. From here we followed the line about twenty metres to an old upturned water tank we called ‘the bell’ In the past, divers would go into the bell and purge their regulators until an air space formed and they could talk to each other and laugh at the way their voices were distorted in the denser air. That stopped when somebody managed to get the bell to float and rocket up to the surface, knocking one diver out and narrowly missing another. Luckily the person was rescued in time. Now the bell has holes drilled in it to prevent this and it’s just an interesting artefact. I poked my head into the bell for a moment and look around at the rusty metal surface, wondering what could have been such an attraction. Then we headed back across the gap to the grip and spent a few moments taking in the scene around us. The water was a pale green blue above, and to the right of me were Nuno and Pieter. To my left was the gaping black hole that is the cave mouth. We exchanged ‘okay’ signals and began our ascent.

  After a good night’s sleep, we were ready for our Trimix dive. We kept the dive simple and used air for travel gas and oxygen for decompression. I think the mix was 50/50. Except for the fact that due to the small team available, we had no surface support, the dive was textbook. Each of us carried five cylinders, twin tanks on our back, a stage for air, oxygen slung either side and our own backup gas. Some might say this was excessive, but we not only wanted to allow for any eventuality but also rehearse our kit configuration for the upcoming Egyptian trip. Following our standard practice for diving to the back of the cave, we left the backup tanks on the grid at the mouth of the cave. After a brief exchange of signals we headed away from the natural light and under the roof and deeper into the cave. As we passed forty metres we switched to Trimix. I felt in complete control as we followed Nuno along the line that led from the grid to the back of the cave. As we neared about half way, a familiar object came into view. We’d reach the Police Sign and a depth of fifty metres. Another few minutes and we were at the end of the permanent line. At this point Nuno tied his reel onto the main line and set off to explore the back of the cave. He headed off to the right side of the cave, eventually we came to the ‘no entry’ road sign that someone with a sense of humour had left years before. Finally we reached the point where we could only shine our torches into narrow cracks; we’d come to the very back of the Wondergat cave. Our depth was fifty-five metres. Nuno gave the signal to turn around and we retraced our path back to the big rock were the main line terminated. One of the things that make a dive here unique is the view of the wide mouth of the cave that one gets as you head out of the cave. If you dive at the correct time it’s a bright blue or green beacon that points the way to the exit, the grid and a safe route to the surface. This dive was no exception, an ever brighter green lantern as we moved up the line to the grid, picked up our backup tanks and head up the shot-line. We spend a total of 100 minutes underwater.

  Everything went very well on this dive. For me this was very significant since it was my first Trimix dive since my chamber treatment over a year ago now. Pieter was also testing a new helmet-cam he had made to take with to the Red Sea. Needless to say he was very happy to see it worked fine. I also got a real appreciation for the weight of equipment Nuno would be carrying on his back because I used just two of his eighteen litre cylinders for the Trimix dive. I found that they were okay in the water, but to walk up the steps that lead out of Wondergat was all but impossible for me. I was very relieved when Nuno suggested we take them apart and carry them up one at a time. I really felt that this weekend had proven to myself and Nuno that I was back diving as well as ever, and ready for a big expedition again. The pictures on the following page show Nuno leading the way to the back of the Wondergat

  Nuno leading the way to the back of the Wondergat cave

  As I follow behind(courtesy Pieter Venter )

  We leave for Egypt

  The 28th of May 2005 saw the entire team assembled outside the International Departures hall of Johannesburg International Airport. Nuno, Lenne´, Pieter, Chris, Dina (Chris’s wife), Gareth, Sean, Theo and I were finally going to Egypt. My doubts at the trip happening were all gone and everyone was in a jovial and excited mood. Check in with Egypt-Air was very smooth, largely due to Pieter pre-arranging with them that we would have a very large excess ba
ggage requirement. This was to be expected since Nuno was taking his four eighteen litre cylinders with him, each weighing approximately twenty six kilograms. In addition to this we had a specially measured shot line that had steel rings at around every twenty metres. The shot line bag had to be specially taken through the baggage centre because it was over thirty kg by itself. Each of us had at least thirty kilograms of baggage as well. With approximately 240 kilograms of personal luggage added to the cylinders’ 100 kilograms and Pieter’s video camera and housing and Sean’s medical stuff, we had well into 400 kilograms of luggage!

  The team prepared for departure from Johannesburg

  As we made our way through the final check-in desk and past the boarding desk, I was quietly excited to be flying out of South Africa for the first time. Although I’d read a lot and seen all the usual documentaries about Egypt, I find it’s always better to see a place with your own eyes and experience its people directly. This was an opportunity I was really looking forward to.

  Cairo, city of the Pharaohs

  We arrived in Cairo International Airport around six am Egyptian time and were greeted by the first of two guides who would take us through to Dahab. He very efficiently shepherded us towards the customs desks that luckily were not very busy at that early hour. Within about thirty minutes of disembarking we found ourselves outside in the airport car park and remarking that the heat was already beginning to be felt. We followed our guide up to a woefully small avocado green bus, which was to take us the 558 kilometres from Cairo to Dahab via the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx.