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<title>1989: Cambridge Underground: Rescues</title>
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<center><font size=-1>Cambridge Underground 1990 pp 10-12</font>
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<h1>The Rescues</h1>
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<h3>by Chris Densham and Rebecca Lawson</h3></center>
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<p>Cambridge University Caving Club went on expedition to the Totes Gebirge,
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Austria this Summer. As well as finding several kilometres of new cave, we
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were also unlucky enough to have two accidents. This is the story of the
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rescues, as told by the victims, Rebecca Lawson and her boyfriend Chris
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Densham.
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<p>Chris: I heard the shout from Wookey as I was filling my carbide
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generator from a pool of water, 100m underground. "Rebecca's broken her
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leg, it's a good one - her leg's wobbling in all the wrong directions."
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<p>He raced off towards the entrance to call the others. I stood, briefly
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dazed, then set off down the winding stream canyon. This narrowed to a
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vertical squeeze, 'Beer Belly Blues', christened after the gut of one caver
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prevented further progress there. I got to the squeeze and peered down the
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ten metre pitch that lay immediately below it. I called to Becka who lay 8m
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below and got a cheery Hello and an urgent warning not to touch the ladder
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on the pitch.
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<p>Becka: I was, by then, working up to full steam. "You stupid
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........... bitch". I was already dreading seeing everyone else. Still
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you can't slink away and hide if one leg is acting like a jelly filled
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sausage, and you are the wrong side of a vertical squeeze.
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<p>Someone had advised me to use a C-rig on my Petzl stop to descend the
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squeeze pitch. "Reduces friction", he said, "But don't let go
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of the rope - you virtually free-fall". So down I went on my C-rig, and
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as usual the Stop got in the way, then it wedged fast between me and the
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rock. Trying to free it, I let go of the rope. Plop - cleared the squeeze in
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record time! After 8m of something damn close to free fall I hit the rock,
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bounced and landed on a ledge.
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<p>I clipped into the ladder, stood up and watched as my right leg collapsed,
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flopping wildly. It looked so loose that I thought my lower leg was broken
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as well as my femur. Wookey helped me to sit down and wound the ladder twice
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around my leg - an effective improvised support. He then went out for help.
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Sitting still the pain subsided and the fall seemed unreal. I felt as if I
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could just stand up and walk away if I wanted to. Chris came down and sat
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with me. He seemed more upset than I was, perhaps because he wasn't, as I
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was, furiously cursing my stupid incompetence.
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<p>Wookey reached the surface incredibly quickly. Mike 'the Animal'
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Richardson was immediately dispatched to civilization, taking a
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record-breaking hour to reach the car-park. Mark Dougherty launched into cave
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rescue mode and collected the necessary medical and hauling equipment.
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Meanwhile, Wookey and Adam Cooper went straight down to attack the squeeze
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with a lump hammer. They smashed away flakes of rock trying to widen and
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smooth the squeeze, showering Chris and I below.
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<p>Mark came down to splint my leg, working on a cramped and damp ledge. I
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screamed quite a lot, which he found rather off putting. However he got his
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own back by momentarily resting his elbow on my bad knee, which sent me
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through the roof!
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<p>The two metal frame supports from my Karrimor rucksack were used to splint
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upper and lower leg, tied on with chest straps and tapes. Once the splints
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were in place I could be lifted onto a higher larger ledge where the splints
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were bound more firmly.
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<p>The hauling began, with Wookey and Adam already having rigged the squeeze
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pitch. Mark went up, then all three hauled and helped direct me to the
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largest part of the squeeze. Chris climbed the ladder below me, holding and
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supporting my leg at the most comfortable angle. At the squeeze itself he
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had to let go, and I held the leg myself, using a tape which was tied around
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my ankle.
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<p>The squeeze, the greatest psychological barrier, went surprisingly well. I
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used my good leg to help manoeuvre and wriggled through to shouts of delight
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from my haulers.
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<p>From then on out progress was slow but steady. The second main worry,
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blood loss, did not seem too severe. My leg was very well swollen around my
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harness, but I kept my colour and my pulse was strong. Chris climbed beside
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me, supporting my leg, whilst Wookey, Adam and Mark hauled and rigged ahead.
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<p>To our surprise we met members of the Austrian C.R.O. at the head of the
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third pitch. They had arrived by helicopter only four hours after my fall.
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They brought a padded fibreglass 'coffin' which vastly reduced my pain, by
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keeping my leg protected and firmly straight. I was carried over the chamber
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and then dragged up an aerial runway to avoid the awkward second pitch.
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There were problems with the mechanical winch which they put on the entrance
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pitch, but by then there were plenty of people available to haul me up.
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<p><center><a href="../../handbook/l/rltyrl.htm"><img alt="Stretcher on
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tyrolean - 32k" width=200 height=134 hspace=10 align=middle
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src="../../handbook/t/rltyrl.jpg"></a> |
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<a href="../../smkridge/161/l/rl89a.htm"><img alt="89k" width=122 height=168
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align=middle hspace=10 src="../../smkridge/161/t/rl89a.jpg"></a> |
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<a href="../../smkridge/161/l/rwinch.htm"><img alt="105k" width=123
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height=181 align=middle hspace=10
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src="../../smkridge/161/t/rwinch.jpg"></a></center>
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<p>After eight hours after my fall I reached the surface. A doctor, all ready
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with drip hung from a convenient bush, checked me when I emerged. My blood
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pressure was still normal. A helicopter soon arrived and I got an exciting
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winch ride aboard before the five minute journey to hospital. The helicopter
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was free, courtesy of the Austrian military.
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<p><center><a href="../../piclinks/rl89b.htm"><img alt="Becka on surface,
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82k" width=115 height=148 align=middle hspace=10
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src="../../tinypix/rl89b.jpg"></a> |
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<a href="../../piclinks/rl89c.htm"><img alt="Helicopter ride, 39k" width=118
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height=179 align=middle hspace=10
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src="../../tinypix/rl89c.jpg"></a></center>
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<p>Later, shivering on the x-ray table, the nurses seemed very unwilling to
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cut my clothes off me. However they must have sensed my horror as I watched
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them grab hold of my tight fitting welly and prepared to heave it off my
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well-broken leg. They relented and got out the scissors. A few hours later
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they were still chopping away at me. A fifteen inch metal pin was hammered
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down the marrow of my femur and I was eventually stitched together and left
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to lounge in bed for the next few weeks.
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<p><a name="chris">Chris</a>: The exploration of Kaninchenhõhle
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continued and at last the time came to detackle the cave. Reluctantly, Dan
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Mace, Juliette Kelly and I set off to the cave in freezing rain. Two other
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detackling trips to other parts of the cave had descended ahead of us.
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<p>By the time I had finished eating and emptying my bowels I was horrified
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to realize that the others had been underground half an hour already. I
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bombed down to 'Beer Belly Blues', now renamed 'Becka Falls' and was
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mortified to find that Dan and Juliette had been chilling off waiting for me
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at the bottom of the pitch for twenty minutes.
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<p>Four bars on my rack, I leapt at the squeeze. That morning, I had put a
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couple of new bars on my rack and I found that they gave lots of friction.
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Gravity would not pull me down through the squeeze so I removed a bar.
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Shove, the loose bar jammed in the rock stopping me dead.
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<p>Alarm bells should have been ringing by now but they didn't. Stupidly I
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took both hands off the rope, to free the wedged bar. Then I was plummeting
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down on the same trajectory as Rebecca. I bounced off the same ledge and came
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to rest at the same place. "I don't believe it" I thought.
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<p>Dan and Juliette raced up the ladder to the ledge and helped me stand. I
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felt alright but could not support my weight with my right leg. Neither Dan
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nor Juliette had been involved in the first rescue, but although they had
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not had a 'practice go' they went efficiently into action.
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<p>We knew that four people were below us in the cave, and would soon be
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coming out. We would also meet three others who were down a parallel shaft
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above the second pitch.
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<p>Dan and Juliette hauled me up to the squeeze and then man-handled me along
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the vadose passage to the bottom of the third and fourth pitches. Dan's
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bobbin was used as a hauling rig with the rescuers prussicking up one side
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of the rope whilst I dangled on the other end. I was slowly hauled up the
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pitches until I reached the top when all three of us were hanging in the
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air, like bats roosting in a tree.
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<p>We were half way out by pub closing time when the others started to
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appear. Dan shouted "Chris has done a Becka" and there was stunned
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disbelief all around. This was followed by a painful girding of non too
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fresh loins. The rescuers were already tired out after a long detackling
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trip. David had ricked his back and Paul had twisted his neck. However
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no-one wanted the embarrassment of calling the Austrian rescue again and the
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weather outside would not allow the landing of a helicopter.
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<p>I was brought out of the cave at 2am, nine hours after the accident. Mark,
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once more in rescue mode, had me trussed up in an alpine stretcher, padded
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out with Becka's abandoned rucksack. My leg was splinted. It was cold, dark,
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misty and wet. Not nice.
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<p>The nine stretcher bearers struggled to haul me across the rough pathless
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limestone. I was dragged across the flatter sections of pavement, head
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helmeted and bouncing over the lumps. Progress was painfully slow but
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spirits rose as the dawn came and we could see where we were going. It took
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eight hours to reach the car-park; Mike had run the same route in an hour.
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On finally arriving, Paul could not remove his rucksack and Mark had great
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difficulty in getting out of the car, his muscles having seized.
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<p>I met Becka in the hospital foyer, she was being discharged as I was
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admitted. The nurses distastefully peeled off layer after layer of clothing
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and placed the remaining grimy heap that was me on the x-ray table.
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<p>"Sir, now the shit hits the fan" said the English speaking
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doctor. "You have a broken pelvis," he giggled at me.
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<p>Our thanks to the Austrian Cave Rescue, the Austrian Military for
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providing the helicopter, to the hospital in Bad Aussee and to all the
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members of Cambridge University Caving Club who pulled together when we
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needed them.
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<hr width=50%>
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<p>Chris & Becka have both made excellent recoveries and wrote this
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article shortly before leaving on a trip to India together.
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<hr>
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<!-- LINKS -->
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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CUCC Expo Handbook <a href="../../handbook/rescue.htm">Rescue Guide</a><br>
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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Cambridge Underground 1990,
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<a href="../../../jnl/1990/index.htm">Table of Contents</a><br>
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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1989 Expedition info:<br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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<a href="index.htm">Index</a> (more detail than in this list)<br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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<a href="log.htm">Logbook</a><br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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Cambridge Underground Expo Report:<br>
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<img alt="------>" src="../../../icons/lists/2.png">
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<a href="diary.htm">Diary</a><br>
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<img alt="------>" src="../../../icons/lists/2.png">
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<a href="cavegd.htm">161 Description</a> to date (ie. 1989)<br>
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<img alt="------>" src="../../../icons/lists/2.png">
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<a href="survey.htm">The 1989 survey</a> of Kaninchenhöhle<br>
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<img alt="------>" src="../../../icons/lists/2.png">
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<a href="camp.htm">Underground Camping</a> experience in 1989<br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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<a href="sumup.htm">1976-89 summary</a> of caves found<br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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<a href="bcracc.htm">BCRA Caves & Caving Report</a><br>
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<img alt="--->" src="../../../icons/lists/1.png">
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<a href="sponsr.htm">Sponsors</a><br>
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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<a href="../../pubs.htm#1989">Index</a> to all publications<br>
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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<a href="../../index.htm">Back to Expeditions intro page</a><br>
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<img alt=">" src="../../../icons/lists/0.png">
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<a href="../../../index.htm">CUCC Home Page</a>
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</body>
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