It’s Dark Down Here!

The caving hut had an incredible view out over the hills of the Waitomo region.

Last Saturday we spent a few moments experiencing total darkness, and total silence.

We were inside a cave in the Waitomo region of the North Island, famed for its limestone escarpments and massive cave systems. We’d been in one of the caves before, with our children, on a tourist trip viewing the incredible phenomena of glow worms. But at this moment, we were with a handful of Quakers, geared up with construction hats, head lamps, thermal underwear, and protective overalls.  We were about to abseil down a 6 meter drop to follow a stream to the cave exit. But before we did that, we crawled on our bellies through a small hole and gathered in a small, dry, cavern, where we settled ourselves on the stones, and turned off our lights.

The darkness of a cave is awesome.  We are such visual creatures by habit that when our brains can’t distinguish whether the eyes are open or closed, reality feels different. And even for a group of Quakers – accustomed as we are to “silence” – the utter lack of external sound deep under the ground was awe-inspiring.

For me (Marsha) one of the loveliest moments was when we turned our lights back on. I was filled with a sense of familiarity and safety as I saw my friends around me again. Going into the cave initially was somewhat scary, but having gone past my comfort zone into the discombobulating total darkness, the cave (with lights and people in sight) was no longer scary, but comfortable. A lovely metaphor for me to remember as I continue to stretch myself in new ways here in New Zealand.

Having had our time of darkness, we continued on through the cave, seeing beautiful stalactites and stalagmites and other rock formations that take thousands of years to form. We exited the cave through a long, beautiful, sinuous tunnel, walking through the clear stream that had carved the tunnel as it tumbled along. The sound of gurgling water and our small group splashing through the water (sometimes ankle deep, sometimes waist deep!) was quite a change from the silence of the upper cave. At the very end, just as we were seeing sunlight at the end of the tunnel, we looked up to see a large collection of New Zealand cave weta — cricket-like insects that had bodies up to 6 inches long, and antennae that were just as long!

Debriefing in the hut after a long day of caving.

The whole caving experience was part of a Quaker Caving Weekend hosted by a family here at Mt. Eden who are avid cavers. We stayed in a hut with bunkrooms enough for about 25 people, but overflowed into tents and campervans because close to 40 people registered. We had Quakers from all over the North Island – including a wonderful clutch of about a dozen teenagers. The hut is high up on a hill on a working farm, so the path to the outhouse went through a sheep pasture (or paddock, as they say in NZ). Apparently, a local TV show recently gave the hut a prize for having “the most impressive view from a longdrop toilet!”

The view from the outhouse. Yes, those white things on the hill are sheep!

The second day of caving was quite different than the first. The “cave” was simply the passage of a stream that entered the rock on one side of a ridge and exited on the other side. It took us an hour to walk from the entrance to the exit — walking upstream in the water the whole time and even scrambling up some 3-4 foot high waterfalls! The trip back was a bit faster (only 40 minutes) because we knew where some of the deep parts were and were more confident of our path to stay in the shallowest parts. But the whole trip was quite strenuous work. When you walk with your feet part-way up the wall of a tunnel straddling a 2-foot wide stream a  on the side of a tunnel straddling a 2-foot wide tunnel to avoid the water, or have to hug a rock to keep your balance while preparing to jump across the stream, you realize how many muscles you have that you don’t use on a regular amble down the street!

We are grateful for the people who planned and hosted this caving event, and for the care that the experienced cavers took in kitting us out with the appropriate gear and staying close by as we learned to navigate our way in unfamiliar surroundings. It was not only an adventure to a new part of New Zealand, but a chance for us to get to know and trust our fellow New Zealand Quakers.