It was summer 1955. We decided to meet up again the following Easter at Ingleton. So in 1956, after exploring a few caves around Ingleton and Clapham, we decided to form ourselves into a proper group. It was August-September 1956 we held a meeting in the Wheatsheaf Hotel, Ingleton.

MOSSDALE continued: BY TONY WALTHAM
Early in the afternoon, I headed into the cave, along with Julian Coward. At first it was almost like a reunion weekend as there seemed to be a Wanderer stationed at each junction through the streamways and lakes of the entrance series. And the atmosphere was not all gloom, because we were hoping, and almost expecting, that the six cavers were waiting it out in the High Level Mud Caverns while they were justifiably wary of climbing back down into the Marathons until they knew there was not another flood on its way. At Rough Chamber, Julian and I met up with the main team who had been waiting for someone who knew the way ahead. A small group led by Frank Rayner had already been down into Rough Crawl, clearing some gravel banks that had been left by the flood, and they then joined the main team to go down the Marathons. So we set off as a team of nine, with me in front, followed by Jim Eyre, Julian Coward, Frank Rayner, Jim Newton, Jim Farnworth, Alistair Milner, Jack Bloor and Richard Dickinson.

Rough Crawl is fairly easy going, and there was almost no water flowing down it. With few junctions to sort out, we were soon at Kneewrecker Junction, where we turned right into Near Marathon. With further rapid progress we arrived at the small chamber at its end and headed under the fallen block into Far Marathon East, reasoning that Dave Adamson’s team would never have used the much harder route down Leakey’s Marathon and there was no benefit in it for us either. Part way along Far Marathon East, I came across an Oldham accumulator in the passage. It was caught by the headlamp that had snagged around a small projection in the floor, with the cable to the battery case at full stretch downstream. The lamp had not been left there; perhaps it was a spare that had been stashed in a side rift or even back in the chamber at the end of Near Marathon. And it had only been carried to its new position by a powerful torrent. There had long been debate over whether the Marathons flooded by a silent backing-up of water ponded by a downstream choke, or by a wall of overflow water hurtling down the small passages after the capacity of Syphon Passage was exceeded. That lamp suggested that the latter scenario was nearer to reality.

As we continued yet further down Far Marathon, we realised that the chances were increasing of finding our friends waiting at the head of the climb into High Level Mud Caverns, which was now not far in front of us. We even resorted to an occasional shout down the passage. I can remember starting to feel good, even enjoying the interminable crawling, with the prospect of a successful search and reunion. But I was brought up short when I rounded a corner and saw four neoprene-covered legs across the passage in front of me. “They’re here,” I called back. “Are they OK?” replied Jim. “No, they’re dead,” was my sad response.

The first few of us shuffled up together in the confines of the passage. Two bodies were jammed up into a side-rift, wedged in by what had been a desperate search for airspace, leaving their legs trailing back out into the passage. We realised that we were seeing the aftermath of an awful tragedy that had occurred the previous afternoon.

Jim Eyre started making the decisions. A team had to go back out to carry the news. The two bodies had to be identified, and the others had to be found. A few questions and it turned out that only Jim Farnworth knew all the missing cavers, so he was on the identification team. I have to admit that I was not feeling good, and maybe Jim recognised this, so he put me at the head of a team of three to take the news back to the telephone in Rough Chamber. We headed out. Those who stayed behind soon identified the first two bodies as Geoff Boireau and Mike Ryan. They then found Dave Adamson, Bill Frakes and Colin Vickers not much further down the passage. Somehow, confusion took its toll, and among that team down at the sharp end it was thought there were only five missing cavers. So they soon headed out as well. My mind must have been addled, because on the way up Rough Crawl I took a wrong turn and grovelled along Oomagoolie Passage as far as the distinctive, eponymous mid-passage rock. By the time we turned back, Jim’s group had gone past, so it was they who took the bad news to the telephone in Rough Chamber.

Out into daylight I was just one within a group huddled around the Upper Wharfedale Controllers. There were some folks already planning the teams and logistics to bring the bodies out, but I was among those who suggested this was just not realistic, and that the cave should become their grave. The sheer effort would have been Herculean, but the over-riding factor was the weather. With further heavy rain imminent, there was just too much risk of the cave re-flooding. The dams had breached already, while the search team was underground, and a new invasion of floodwater had only been prevented by instant repairs with cavers almost literally throwing themselves into the breach. There was also some concern about where the beck water was going to from its new sink down the valley, and whether it could find its way back into the cave; this was unlikely, but not impossible as there were too many unknowns. The prospect of a new flood hitting teams of stretcher-haulers in the Marathon crawls was too awful to contemplate. Everyone came out from underground.

It was by then Sunday evening, and I had to return to London, thereby missing the next phase when it was realised that there was a sixth caver unaccounted for. John Ogden had not been found, and there was a faint hope that he could have reached safety in the high-level chambers. Only late on the Monday afternoon did water conditions let anyone back into the cave; two teams reached as far as Rough Chamber, but were then called back out when the beck rose again and threatened to overtop its dam. The weather improved on Tuesday, and a team consisting of Dave Brook, Alan Brook, Dave Cobley, John Rushton, John Sinclair and John Trott searched all the Marathon passages, including the High Level Mud Caverns where John could possibly have reached a safe refuge; but to no avail. Then, in the early hours of Wednesday morning, a team lead by Brian Boardman found John’s body. He too was jammed into a cross-rift, and almost out of sight, but very close to the other three, where they had all been washed down to the debris cone beneath the High Levels. The earlier teams had not spotted the soles of John’s boots where the rest of him was hidden by cobbles washed in by the flood. Later the same day, the coroner met with the police and rescue leaders, and confirmed the earlier decision that the bodies could not sensibly be brought out and the cave should be closed.

Three years later, a small team of Leeds cavers returned to Far Marathon and buried the remains of their friends in The Sanctuary, a blind side passage off the northern arm of the High Level Mud Caverns. For many years after that, Mossdale Caverns was left untouched. But since then a new generation of cavers has returned, though without yet finding the onward galleries that the 1967 team was hoping to explore. And high above the streamway, the remote side passage of The Sanctuary still holds our friends in perpetual silence.