Our first logistical move was getting the hoses into the cave. The fifty-foot coils stacked well on hand trucks to be wheeled in, and since the cave is steep it was all downhill. Connecting the hoses involved dealing with some grit, but that was minimal compared to was to come. We also raided our rescue cache and deployed military-style field phones from the end of the hose to the fire truck on the surface, 600 feet away and 150 feet above. Because of the great distance between the truck and the dig, two crews were to man each station. We were ready to blast.

The first night we began by concentrating on the dig. We made good progress but we would expend all our water in fifteen minutes or so. The fire truck crew then disconnected and drove a 1.5 mile round trip loop to draft water from the lake. This operation would take a minimum of a half hour. Meanwhile at the dig we would loosen the "working face" with mattocks, and await to flush the debris with the next load of water.

It was during one of these "breaks" that Jeff Bray noticed some airflow through a tiny slot in the ceiling of the working face. On a closer look, the tiny slot was actually a very old streambed. We thought we were on it now, we had wind and water...it would only be a matter of time.

Unfortunately, we had too much water. During a quick trip to the lower portion of the cave there were rapids now where usually just a small stream flowed. The bottom of the cave featured a stagnant murky lake. Cale arrived on the scene and ordered us off the dig as he was more interested in expanding the tour route than opening easy virgin cave. Witnessing the whitewater (brownwater?) spectacle he directed us to build a series of settling ponds throughout the lower cave in order to filter some of the sediment load from the stream.

Just beyond the connection crawl is walking passage! (Well sort of walking passage...)

We spent a few days constructing at least eight dams using sandbags. We spent nearly that long, at least it seemed, cleaning phones, cave gear, and fire hose nozzles. The next time around we were ready to do some damage, but instead of flushing sand we simply washed rocks. The area the owner wanted to expand his tour into would not be flushed out, but rather it would be blasted out.

This enabled the crew to get back to business in the dig, heading straight for new cave. Turning to the mine tunnel (three feet wide, four feet high, 150' long, hand excavated) there was a slot to be flushed.

The scene at the working face was incredible. Two people with goggles and wetsuits would hold the hose, wedged against the wall. The head hoser would let loose a minute-long deluge of tremendous force sending sand and water everywhere. You could barely hear your partner shout over the roar. The sediment-laden river would rush past leaving us buried in sand above the ankles. After 20 minutes of flushing we ran out of water, leaving a hole almost large enough to crawl though. After frantic digging and another blast of water, I squeezed through, went a hundred feet to make sure the cave was going, and returned. It was only fitting to let Dave Cale be the first to see what was on the other side of that dig he began some 20 years ago.