What is the difference between exploring and being lost? ~ Dan Eldon
Today we are at Peacock Springs, now known as Wes Skiles Peacock Springs Park. Jack Leeth has joined us and we plan on diving both Orange Grove and Peacock One before heading back for wings and beer. Not a bad dive plan at all.
I am trying to warm up to my new dry suit, but it is a struggle. I have not been dry in it yet and I am disappointed. I am also taking a new pair of fins on their maiden voyage and have high hopes.
Orange Grove has two of my most beloved things. Steps, not one, but two sets of them, and duckweed. There are no ducks, but there is more than enough duckweed. To the left of the steps is the cave entrance, with fallen trees, branches and rocks forming three holes; it sits about 50 feet below the duckweed canopy and at the top of the cavern, which extends down to about 100 feet. While I have been in Orange Grove before, it is not enough to recall the cave and upon being lucky enough to lead in once again, I get lost. Totally missed the monument; swam right past it in the passage to the right. Turning back I get a second chance at it and this time I bring us to gold line.
This cave does not have the cavernous feeling of the Devil System with high ceilings and wide berths. There is no flow to push us and the floor is quite silty; fossils dot the walls and rock out croppings. The tunnels move up and down, changing size and shape and I run my light along the walls and into the narrow edges of the cave, taking in the sights as we move along towards Challenge Sink.
My suit is leaking and I can’t decide whether the new fins are too long or too light. I feel as if they touch everything and stop often to realign myself and the fins. At dives end I have coating of duckweed over me and my gear, an inch of water in my boots and a lone patch just a few inches round that is not wet on my underoos. There is no justice.
After lunch at the Luraville Country Store (no slaw dog this time) we head back for a turn in Peacock One. Several groups are at various stages of entering the water and I make a huge mistake by sitting on the steps. I am using a set of rented double 85’s while my shorter 100’s are being rebuilt, and when I put on my fins and lean forward…. Nothing happens. The tanks are only slightly taller but just enough that I can’t lift them up from the steps while sitting as I can my 100's and I now have to shimmy down the last few steps before plummeting into the water, all to the amusement and good natured ribbing of the group before us.
As Barbara giant strides off the steps, I announce to the amused divers in the water, “go ahead, have your fun, take pictures of me struggling, and if you want to post them online, I am not embarrassed to tell you… My name is Barbara Dwyer.” I know.... I'm bad, can't help it.
I have developed a fondness for Peacock One. The lack of flow makes the dive hard work, but the cave is growing on me. Biologists classify cave-life into three categories: troglobites (cave life), troglophiles (cave lovers), and trogloxenes (cave visitors that must return to the surface to breed or feed. They include salamanders, minnows, sunfish, and cave divers.)
Troglobites, in the form of white crayfish, rain down from the ceiling here, giving me an opportunity to poke if I am quick enough and catfish show up nestled among the different rocks at times you least expect them.
Taking the tunnel to the left, we are heading for the Waterhole jump. The gold line begins just inside the entrance but Grim Reaper sign lies about 100 feet inside. From there the Breakdown Room is just ahead beginning as a small slit in a ledge about half way up the wall and turning into a treasure hunt of fossils embedded in the walls and floor that stretches the entire length of the room. Shells and sand dollars form a bread crumb trail to the next tunnel.
At the Waterhole jump, I again tie in and we begin down the passage as it changes shape and size. Our turn is before the end of the passage, dictated by time, as the park is closing and we must be out of the water. We pass through a short silt out on the way back and the experience reminds me of why we train for caves; in the failing visibility, I automatically move closer to the line and keep on moving toward the entrance and daylight.
We are the last group out of the water and as we make our way along the boardwalk and to our cars, I ponder where I can get me one of those there dive Sherpas, Cause one surely would be handy about now.