The Sarakata Resurgence, Part 1

Sport Diving Magazine, August/September 2005 by Richard Harris

Indiana Jones eat your heart out! The resurgence of the Sarakata River, Espiritu Santo, Vanuatu; for me a greater prize than a rare jewel or an archeological treasure. A quest that has taken some 3 years of research. Negotiating and travelling to finally conquer, and now it lays in front of me. A final ok sign to my buddy John Currie and our heads slip beneath the quiet waters of the Sarakata, at the base of the cliff where she is born. In front of us lies a gaping hole in the pale coralline limestone that gives no clue as to what lies beyond…

So how did I come to find myself submerging in the jungle, in the middle of the largest of Vanuatu’s 83 islands? Well take an Adelaide (South Australia) cave diver, move him to a job at Port Vila’s hospital, add a bit of rumour and info from the internet about a world class cave system and a very tolerant wife who lets him wander the bush looking for water filled holes, and hey presto, you have a boy’s own adventure! It wasn’t easy to get to this point however. Although the path has been trodden before by Vanuatu based cave diver Kevin Green and some divers from Australia (starting with the discovery of the resurgence in early 1997), complex issues with both the expatriate and kastom land owners have made access to the Sarakata cave systems almost impossible. A separate tributary of the Sarakata River on Mt Hope station contains a series of sinkholes with interconnecting submerged passages. This has been reasonably well surveyed with a fine map being produced by Australian cave diver Gary Bush.

But the resurgence of the Sarakata, which to my knowledge has only been visited by two small groups in 1997 and 1999, still contains huge potential for exploration and new discovery. Access remains tough. Another Adelaide cave diver John “Norbert” Currie flew over to help me with this initial push. Norbert and I drove our hired 4wd utility over an hour of dirt track to the start of a freshly cut walking trail where we met our local guide Roma, who with his five friends helped carry our dive gear the hour-long trek through rough jungle terrain to the site. The walk in proved shorter but much tougher than I’d expected. My hand held GPS showed just 830 metres as the crow flies, but it was much further than that on foot! The boys had cleared a great track through the otherwise impenetrable jungle. We divvied up the six tanks, two large rucksacks and small bags between the team and initially the going was pretty easy; modest inclines and not too slippery underfoot. After 20 minutes we reached the top of the gorge above the resurgence. The next 45 minutes was a nightmare of slipping and sliding down a very steep hillside, trying to prevent the aluminium cylinders becoming lethal projectiles as we made our poorly controlled descent. The temperature in the mid 30’s and humidity close to 90 percent made for a healthy thirst by the time we reached the base of the gorge. I tried not to think about the return climb too much!

But finally there she was, the object of my desire! We’d arrived in a flat basin in the floor of the gorge. To my left a still pool of water perhaps 40 metres long by 15 wide extended up to a horseshoe shaped cliff, the site of the resurgence. The other end of the pool broke into a powerfully flowing stream way and disappeared down the gorge. To my right, a dry river bed which apparently fills with overflow from the pool when the rains are on. On the other side of the gorge, another cave entrance beckoned where plenty of small bats and swallows bustled around the front. That one will have to wait… we’re here to dive!

“Bigfella ren hemi stap long hil yesterdei.” I’d been worrying a lot about the recent rains and how they’d affect the flow and visibility in the resurgence. Hearing the porters say that there had been a big rain yesterday in the mountains was ominous. We were still technically in the final throes of the wet season but until a couple of weeks before, it had been more like drought conditions for Vanuatu. Anyway I was finally there and a bit of flow and green looking water wasn’t going to stop “Norbert” and I having a look.

Hot, dirty and tired, we kitted up to begin our single dive to assess the site. We had decided to use 3, twelve litre aluminium tanks (all that could be carried to the waters edge) for the dive, staging one of the tanks on the way in. We did not know if the previous groups had left line or if so, whether it would be in a state fit for use. All we knew was that the cave had been pushed over 1200m to a terminal breakdown room, with multiple side passages seen but not explored. If this expedition was successful, then it would form the basis for a bigger push with scooters later in the year.

John rigged his bag mount doubles with the third tank as the sling, I chose to side mount the 121 cylinders. The water temperature at 22C felt icy in our 3mm steamers after the hot descent down the hillside. I groaned when I put my face below the water to see a maximum viz of 4 metres, and my video lights making it worse with the light reflected off the silt in the water. I should have abandoned the camera there and then but I remained hopeful that the water might be a little clearer further into the system. Not the gin clear Florida-like spring we were hoping for! We swam out to the base of the cliff where the water was gently welling and after making a primary tie-off on the cliff face, descended into the murky green darkness.

Down, down and still further down we touched a base of logs and gravel at 30 metres. I hadn’t anticipated reaching this depth so early in the dive. The visibility in some ways was better without the ambient light diffusing through the water, but the video lights were still flaring badly. I made about 20 seconds of film watching John tie off to a large log, and then wisely abandoned the video at this point. Another 20 metres into the cave I’d thank myself for that decision! I took the reel and headed forward along the left wall, with the flow into our faces gradually increasing. Initially I couldn’t see the right wall but it gradually came into view as the flow increased with every fin stroke into the restriction. Soon I was looking for handholds and my exhalation bubbles were flying straight back into John’s face. We were inched forward over the coarse river gravel, finding good handholds in the finely scalloped wall. My breathing and work rate was dramatically increasing and I got the first nagging feeling that we were going to have to call the dive off without having made any real progress. I’d almost reached that decision when we found a small ridge off limestone sticking out at right angles from the left wall. I mentally named it “The Garage” and we parked in there for a moment until our breathing settled and we gathered ourselves for the next assault on the current. The noise of the water rumbling through the restriction added to the sense of drama! Reassuring each other that we were happy to continue, I motioned John to wait there whilst I checked if I could make any forward progress. Out of the lee of our little shelter, the flow seemed stronger than ever, threatening to tear my mask off and I became paranoid that my other regulators might be free flowing un-noticed. Hand over hand I managed to get another 10 metres along the wall but at any stage I risked losing my grip on the shallow handholds and crashing back down the passage. A quick check of my SPG at this stage confirmed I’d breathed my stage tank down to the prearranged pressure but there was no way I could let go of the wall to unclip it, and even if I could, there was nowhere to safely stage it. I returned to the garage to regroup. I indicated to John that I had to stage my tank so we both tucked them out of the flow and secured them to the limestone. We agreed by hand signals that we’d have one more go at the current and then call the dive off if we couldn’t make any progress. I launched myself out into the current and this time without the added drag off the third tank, progress was significantly easier. Another 20 metres and the passage opened up again and flow dropped considerably to the point where we could easily move forward with hand pulls and finning. The further we went, the easier it got.

Now, despite the reduced viz we really started to enjoy the dive. The passage was a constant 5-7 metres high. The floor alternated between areas of clean limestone, silt drifts and coarse river gravel. No decorations adorned the ceilings but the walls had lovely scalloping in places. One section held a low flattener of about one metre high on the right side, dropping off a ledge on the left side to form a separate level. We chose the more spacious lower level and as we reached the end of the section, an orange line from a previous group appeared from the right! Kevin Green et al had obviously chosen the flattener! We tied off to orange line that appeared in good condition, and progressed with better speed. Over the next 50-100 metres the orange line came and went and we made repairs where necessary.

Finally at a point about 180 metres into the cave, we were faced with a large T-junction, with orange running in front of us along the T. An arrow on the orange line pointed to the right, so we wondered whether the first of the air chambers might lie in that direction. However a strong flow in the direction of the arrow made it unwise at this late point in the dive to the move down the right tunnel. We started briefly up the left tunnel at which point I reached the gas turn around point and called the dive off. We had only scratched the surface of this awesome cave system!

Some very rough bearings and distances on the knotted line gave rise to a rough map, however I could not feel all that confident about the detail as it was very difficult to anchor myself to hold my slate against the line! The last 40m or so was somewhat akin to a toboggan ride and I could only sit back and enjoy the Sarakata express!

So we shot out of the cave like two weary champagne corks to start the long decompression that we earned from nearly an hour at 30 metres depth. That 32 degree Celsius water now felt a whole lot colder and we shivered our way through the next hour and a half. With all pleasure there comes pain!

Did I mention pain? The climb back up that hill after the dive was a horror! But I can’t wait to get back to the Sarakata!