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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>
<h1>The Rescues</h1>
<h3>by Chris Densham and Rebecca Lawson</h3></center>
<p>Cambridge University Caving Club went on expedition to the Totes Gebirge,
Austria this Summer. As well as finding several kilometres of new cave, we
were also unlucky enough to have two accidents. This is the story of the
rescues, as told by the victims, Rebecca Lawson and her boyfriend Chris
Densham.
<p>Chris: I heard the shout from Wookey as I was filling my carbide
generator from a pool of water, 100m underground. &quot;Rebecca's broken her
leg, it's a good one - her leg's wobbling in all the wrong directions.&quot;
<p>He raced off towards the entrance to call the others. I stood, briefly
dazed, then set off down the winding stream canyon. This narrowed to a
vertical squeeze, 'Beer Belly Blues', christened after the gut of one caver
prevented further progress there. I got to the squeeze and peered down the
ten metre pitch that lay immediately below it. I called to Becka who lay 8m
below and got a cheery Hello and an urgent warning not to touch the ladder
on the pitch.
<p>Becka: I was, by then, working up to full steam. &quot;You stupid
........... bitch&quot;. I was already dreading seeing everyone else. Still
you can't slink away and hide if one leg is acting like a jelly filled
sausage, and you are the wrong side of a vertical squeeze.
<p>Someone had advised me to use a C-rig on my Petzl stop to descend the
squeeze pitch. &quot;Reduces friction&quot;, he said, &quot;But don't let go
of the rope - you virtually free-fall&quot;. So down I went on my C-rig, and
as usual the Stop got in the way, then it wedged fast between me and the
rock. Trying to free it, I let go of the rope. Plop - cleared the squeeze in
record time! After 8m of something damn close to free fall I hit the rock,
bounced and landed on a ledge.
<p>I clipped into the ladder, stood up and watched as my right leg collapsed,
flopping wildly. It looked so loose that I thought my lower leg was broken
as well as my femur. Wookey helped me to sit down and wound the ladder twice
around my leg - an effective improvised support. He then went out for help.
Sitting still the pain subsided and the fall seemed unreal. I felt as if I
could just stand up and walk away if I wanted to. Chris came down and sat
with me. He seemed more upset than I was, perhaps because he wasn't, as I
was, furiously cursing my stupid incompetence.
<p>Wookey reached the surface incredibly quickly. Mike 'the Animal'
Richardson was immediately dispatched to civilization, taking a
record-breaking hour to reach the car-park. Mark Dougherty launched into cave
rescue mode and collected the necessary medical and hauling equipment.
Meanwhile, Wookey and Adam Cooper went straight down to attack the squeeze
with a lump hammer. They smashed away flakes of rock trying to widen and
smooth the squeeze, showering Chris and I below.
<p>Mark came down to splint my leg, working on a cramped and damp ledge. I
screamed quite a lot, which he found rather off putting. However he got his
own back by momentarily resting his elbow on my bad knee, which sent me
through the roof!
<p>The two metal frame supports from my Karrimor rucksack were used to splint
upper and lower leg, tied on with chest straps and tapes. Once the splints
were in place I could be lifted onto a higher larger ledge where the splints
were bound more firmly.
<p>The hauling began, with Wookey and Adam already having rigged the squeeze
pitch. Mark went up, then all three hauled and helped direct me to the
largest part of the squeeze. Chris climbed the ladder below me, holding and
supporting my leg at the most comfortable angle. At the squeeze itself he
had to let go, and I held the leg myself, using a tape which was tied around
my ankle.
<p>The squeeze, the greatest psychological barrier, went surprisingly well. I
used my good leg to help manoeuvre and wriggled through to shouts of delight
from my haulers.
<p>From then on out progress was slow but steady. The second main worry,
blood loss, did not seem too severe. My leg was very well swollen around my
harness, but I kept my colour and my pulse was strong. Chris climbed beside
me, supporting my leg, whilst Wookey, Adam and Mark hauled and rigged ahead.
<p>To our surprise we met members of the Austrian C.R.O. at the head of the
third pitch. They had arrived by helicopter only four hours after my fall.
They brought a padded fibreglass 'coffin' which vastly reduced my pain, by
keeping my leg protected and firmly straight. I was carried over the chamber
and then dragged up an aerial runway to avoid the awkward second pitch.
There were problems with the mechanical winch which they put on the entrance
pitch, but by then there were plenty of people available to haul me up.
<p><center><a href="../../handbook/l/rltyrl.htm"><img alt="Stretcher on
tyrolean - 32k" width=200 height=134 hspace=10 align=middle
src="../../handbook/t/rltyrl.jpg"></a> |
<a href="../../smkridge/161/l/rl89a.htm"><img alt="89k" width=122 height=168
align=middle hspace=10 src="../../smkridge/161/t/rl89a.jpg"></a> |
<a href="../../smkridge/161/l/rwinch.htm"><img alt="105k" width=123
height=181 align=middle hspace=10
src="../../smkridge/161/t/rwinch.jpg"></a></center>
<p>After eight hours after my fall I reached the surface. A doctor, all ready
with drip hung from a convenient bush, checked me when I emerged. My blood
pressure was still normal. A helicopter soon arrived and I got an exciting
winch ride aboard before the five minute journey to hospital. The helicopter
was free, courtesy of the Austrian military.
<p><center><a href="../../piclinks/rl89b.htm"><img alt="Becka on surface,
82k" width=115 height=148 align=middle hspace=10
src="../../tinypix/rl89b.jpg"></a> |
<a href="../../piclinks/rl89c.htm"><img alt="Helicopter ride, 39k" width=118
height=179 align=middle hspace=10
src="../../tinypix/rl89c.jpg"></a></center>
<p>Later, shivering on the x-ray table, the nurses seemed very unwilling to
cut my clothes off me. However they must have sensed my horror as I watched
them grab hold of my tight fitting welly and prepared to heave it off my
well-broken leg. They relented and got out the scissors. A few hours later
they were still chopping away at me. A fifteen inch metal pin was hammered
down the marrow of my femur and I was eventually stitched together and left
to lounge in bed for the next few weeks.
<p><a name="chris">Chris</a>: The exploration of Kaninchenh&otilde;hle
continued and at last the time came to detackle the cave. Reluctantly, Dan
Mace, Juliette Kelly and I set off to the cave in freezing rain. Two other
detackling trips to other parts of the cave had descended ahead of us.
<p>By the time I had finished eating and emptying my bowels I was horrified
to realize that the others had been underground half an hour already. I
bombed down to 'Beer Belly Blues', now renamed 'Becka Falls' and was
mortified to find that Dan and Juliette had been chilling off waiting for me
at the bottom of the pitch for twenty minutes.
<p>Four bars on my rack, I leapt at the squeeze. That morning, I had put a
couple of new bars on my rack and I found that they gave lots of friction.
Gravity would not pull me down through the squeeze so I removed a bar.
Shove, the loose bar jammed in the rock stopping me dead.
<p>Alarm bells should have been ringing by now but they didn't. Stupidly I
took both hands off the rope, to free the wedged bar. Then I was plummeting
down on the same trajectory as Rebecca. I bounced off the same ledge and came
to rest at the same place. &quot;I don't believe it&quot; I thought.
<p>Dan and Juliette raced up the ladder to the ledge and helped me stand. I
felt alright but could not support my weight with my right leg. Neither Dan
nor Juliette had been involved in the first rescue, but although they had
not had a 'practice go' they went efficiently into action.
<p>We knew that four people were below us in the cave, and would soon be
coming out. We would also meet three others who were down a parallel shaft
above the second pitch.
<p>Dan and Juliette hauled me up to the squeeze and then man-handled me along
the vadose passage to the bottom of the third and fourth pitches. Dan's
bobbin was used as a hauling rig with the rescuers prussicking up one side
of the rope whilst I dangled on the other end. I was slowly hauled up the
pitches until I reached the top when all three of us were hanging in the
air, like bats roosting in a tree.
<p>We were half way out by pub closing time when the others started to
appear. Dan shouted &quot;Chris has done a Becka&quot; and there was stunned
disbelief all around. This was followed by a painful girding of non too
fresh loins. The rescuers were already tired out after a long detackling
trip. David had ricked his back and Paul had twisted his neck. However
no-one wanted the embarrassment of calling the Austrian rescue again and the
weather outside would not allow the landing of a helicopter.
<p>I was brought out of the cave at 2am, nine hours after the accident. Mark,
once more in rescue mode, had me trussed up in an alpine stretcher, padded
out with Becka's abandoned rucksack. My leg was splinted. It was cold, dark,
misty and wet. Not nice.
<p>The nine stretcher bearers struggled to haul me across the rough pathless
limestone. I was dragged across the flatter sections of pavement, head
helmeted and bouncing over the lumps. Progress was painfully slow but
spirits rose as the dawn came and we could see where we were going. It took
eight hours to reach the car-park; Mike had run the same route in an hour.
On finally arriving, Paul could not remove his rucksack and Mark had great
difficulty in getting out of the car, his muscles having seized.
<p>I met Becka in the hospital foyer, she was being discharged as I was
admitted. The nurses distastefully peeled off layer after layer of clothing
and placed the remaining grimy heap that was me on the x-ray table.
<p>&quot;Sir, now the shit hits the fan&quot; said the English speaking
doctor. &quot;You have a broken pelvis,&quot; he giggled at me.
<p>Our thanks to the Austrian Cave Rescue, the Austrian Military for
providing the helicopter, to the hospital in Bad Aussee and to all the
members of Cambridge University Caving Club who pulled together when we
needed them.
<hr width=50%>
<p>Chris &amp; Becka have both made excellent recoveries and wrote this
article shortly before leaving on a trip to India together.
<hr />
<!-- LINKS -->
<ul>
<li>CUCC Expo Handbook <a href="../../handbook/rescue.htm">Rescue Guide</a></li>
<li>Cambridge Underground 1990,
<a href="../../../jnl/1990/index.htm">Table of Contents</a></li>
<li>1989 Expedition info:
<ul>
<li><a href="index.htm">Index</a> (more detail than in this list)</li>
<li><a href="log.htm">Logbook</a></li>
<li>Cambridge Underground Expo Report:
<ul>
<li><a href="diary.htm">Diary</a></li>
<li><a href="cavegd.htm">161 Description</a> to date (ie. 1989)</li>
<li><a href="survey.htm">The 1989 survey</a> of Kaninchenh&ouml;hle</li>
<li><a href="camp.htm">Underground Camping</a> experience in 1989</li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="sumup.htm">1976-89 summary</a> of caves found</li>
<li><a href="bcracc.htm">BCRA Caves &amp; Caving Report</a></li>
<li><a href="sponsr.htm">Sponsors</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="../../pubs.htm#pubs1989">Index</a> to all publications</li>
<li><a href="../../index.htm">Back to Expeditions intro page</a></li>
<li><a href="../../../index.htm">CUCC Home Page</a></li>
</ul>
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