A personal view by Brian Hepworth.
Writer's note: Whilst I sincerely hope that the following article is factual, I would point out to readers that information dating back 35 years could contain some inaccuracies, some names may have been forgotten, and events may not be strictly in chronological order. I would be delighted if any 'old' acquaintances would contact me with their comments or corrections
In 1961 at the age of 15, I attended Whitwood Technical College, where I was fortunate to meet Trevor Tordoff. I had in fact seen Trevor before, at Inter-school athletics events, where he could be seen winning races by yards, and being way out in front in throwing events. He was a natural athlete. He now became a friend, a chap who was friends with everyone, a natural mixer, who could talk to anyone, tell stories, recounting events with great panache and humour. One minute he could be talking to a managing director and the next visiting and supporting 'down and outs' in the Leeds Crypt. He is a person with a social conscience, and undoubtedly could always see the funny side of any situation.
We went cycling and walking together, and very soon he introduced many others and me to his passion of caving. He had attended some C.P.C. meets, and he recounted great stories of the traverses in Juniper Gulf, swimming in Scosca Cave, the trials and trials of Magnetometer Pot with William Wheeldon, and a rescue he saw in progress at Bar Pot, whilst walking up Ingleborough. I think I was hooked on caving before going underground!
Trev was definitely a larger than life figure. I remember well a walking holiday, with our English Teacher, who stood at a set point on the road overlooking Kilnsey crag. He had obviously done this many times before, and bet a pound that no one could hit the crag with a stone. He was almost right; no one could except for Trevor, who then repeated the throw because the teacher didn't believe he had done it! On the next throw Trev hit the face half way up, and the teacher begrudgingly paid. What our teacher didn't know until it was too late, was that Trevor was Yorkshire Discus champion.
During the same holiday near Arncliffe a herd of exceptionally frisky bullocks thundered after Trevor who frantically ran to the bottom of a field before he extricated himself by leaping headfirst over a dry stone wall.
Trevor took me on my first caving trip to Castleton, a small cave above the Winnatts. We were equipped with old clothes, boiler suits, one electric headlamp with dry cell batteries and an acetylene lamp without water. The idea was to fill up with water at the end of the cave where there was a pool of water. On reaching the end of the cave, we were about to fill up with water when the electric torch died. I initially panicked, but was calmed by Trevor, who followed his religious beliefs and suggested we both kneel and say a prayer! I then understood what true cave darkness was, as we tried many practical ways of finding light. Abortive attempts at filling the acetylene lamp ended in mud and grit thoroughly blocking the jet, and fumbling about with the batteries and bulb rendered the electric torch useless. What could we do? Did we wait for someone else to come across us by accident? Trevor's parents were in Castleton but didn't know which cave we were down. We had to find our way out in the dark. We backtracked along a crawl, until we came to a chamber. This was circled many times, whilst feeling the walls to find the way out, as we knew to exit involved a small climb out of the chamber. Eventually with our heightened senses, the result of being in the dark for an hour or so permitted us to feel the draught from outside, together with the smell of grass on a warm day, and we took the correct route. I remember very well my first experience of seeing a small pin of light from underground, followed by the memorable experience of climbing out of a cave to the warmth and freshness of a summer's day. We were both glad to be out and safe, no doubt learning many important lessons about safety.
One must remember this was in the days before caving and outdoor pursuits generally had been given a scientific or safety conscious edge. I can remember reading books by Casteret and Gemmell and Myers, but as far as I know no one had written about equipment, it was more of a case of talk to someone about it. I think Trevor wanted to break away from meets with Craven, and I wanted to go caving again. Trevor set about making his first electron ladder; a very heavy duty one that he thought would be the strongest in Yorkshire. I also set about making a 60' rope ladder. Rope ladders were still used extensively, but electron ladders had been introduced, Trevor had met Lewis Railton who was an early pioneer of new equipment, as well as being well known for being trapped by floodwater in OFD1 in the early days. Any information I did find implied that sisal rope was a cheap appropriate material, so I made the ladder with oak rungs, from some old desks.
I can remember time spent in the back of Trevor's newly opened shop, climbing his ladder that was secured on a scaffold tower. The ladders were put to use firstly I think at Sell Gill Hole, where a party from Pontefract and friends from Huddersfield Poly descended. At that time it was standard procedure for the lifeline man to secure the climber without being self- belayed, but we had a climber with us, Peter Moffat who insisted that the lifeline man was belayed.
At a GG camp during a Craven meet we were all fed up with the authoritarian approach of C.P.C. and arranged our own trip down O.B.J hole using our own ladders, with Trevor, Paul Hornby and William Wheeldon. Unfortunately by mistake we ended up down Frustration Pot, for an hour or so. I scrapped my rope ladders after a Craven trip down Stream Passage Pot when one of their rope ladders (made of courlene rope) was found to be severed following a rock fall on the third pitch! Montagu Grainger (who made solo trips over several days to survey Long Henslers Passage in GG) also advised me that sisal was totally unsuitable because of its susceptibility to rotting. Fortunately before scrapping the ladder it didn't let anyone down.
I think the year was around 1962/3 when Trevor mooted the idea of starting a potholing club. His enthusiasm and drive was infectious, and the club the Undertaker's Subterranean Society came into being. Trev wanted it to be something a little different and steered away from the usual potholing club title. It is good to see to this day the club having a wide brief with walking and scientific work with Water Testing at Malham. Trev was Chairman I was first secretary and I think William Wheeldon was first treasurer. I remember on one occasion explaining to the Ingleborough Estate Office that although the club had a strange title we were all responsible cavers. Or is that a contradiction in terms?
At the time there seemed to be an excellent opportunity to explore caves in the Magnesium Limestone at Smeaton area near Pontefract. The quarry owner was one of my next door neighbours, but unfortunately however hard I tried I could not convince him to let us down. He had had a bad experience with another group in the area going down without permission, and that was the end of that.
When the club changed its name to the YSS, soon afterwards I was asked to hand over the secretaries job to William I think, because I was involved in caving with friends from Huddersfield, B.P.C. and my time in Pontefract was limited.
Bus meets started in addition to casual trips. There was an early coach trip to Pikedaw Calamine Caverns, when the coach driver unused to country driving quickly overtook a horse and rider near Malham and the man became unseated from his frightened horse. His "rant" at the coach driver included some new vocabulary for younger members of the club! A day was spent at Boggarts Roaring Holes and Pillar Holes, and an eventful trip down Rosebay Pot when the whole cave seemed to be collapsing around us. Enjoyable trips were also made to the Elbolton Pot area, Browgill area, Heron Pot, Alum Pot, and places too numerous to list.
It was about that time that wet suits were being introduced for caving and I remember a coach trip to Penyghent Long Churn, which was rather short, so a group of us laddered the wet entrance of Sell Gill afterwards. Trevor tried out his new 'wet' boots, which inspired me to buy sheets of neoprene and a pattern from him to make my first wet suit. I christened the suit at Hardrawkin Pot, and was so delighted I remember doing cartwheels and handstands at the sump, watched by David Brown an early member of YSS.
I remember two trips after I left Pontefract, Y.S.S. was obviously on its feet, with quite a large group of members. We descended the centre series of Notts Pot, although unfortunately we were about 15' short of ladder to reach the bottom. I also descended Bull Pot Kingsdale with a small group including Colin Gray, the only time I ever caved with him, when I remember having an off day, and struggled to climb ladders.
In about 1967 I remember a trip with Philip Pendred B.P.C. and David Brown Y.S.S. We had to abandon a trip down Penyghent Pot because of shortage of tackle, and instead arranged an abortive trip down High Hull Pot when Philip badly gashed his hand on the second pitch, the rest of the day being spent in a doctor's surgery in Settle!
Although I was not involved in the club anymore, Trevor and I bottomed Lost Johns on a B.P.C. trip before travelling to Kettlewell and helping out with the digging out of the entrance to Providence pot, part of the Y.S.S project to rebuild the entrance.
After moving to Wolverhampton I carried on caving for about 2 years with Wolverhampton Caving Group, in addition to Yorkshire visiting Derbyshire, South Wales and Mendip, and then got involved in White Water Canoeing.
Looking back the caving days were really special, never since has any activity given me such a buzz, and I really miss my old friends who loved caving together. I can still drift off and dream about the underworld from reading 'Descent' and the fantastic web site of the YSS.
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