Belfry Bulletin Number 100

Volume 10 No.100

October 1956

A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OUR READERS ALL OVER THE WORLD The following is reprinted from a calendar issued by G. Platten in 1947, and was written by P.E. Cleator.

THE CAVERS’ CALENDAR. JANUARY.

Overhaul all tackle in preparation for the coming season. Throw out old rope, sandwiches, cigarette ends, etc. Rather than waste any doubtful lumps of calcium carbide, thoroughly mix with your wife’s favourite bath salts.

FEBRUARY.

Continue the overhauling process, polishing up boots, buttons, and cuss words.

Recapture your old form by assiduously practising striking of matches, the lighting of candles, the putting on of boots, taking of a bath, etc.

MARCH.

Still in preparation for the strenuous days to come, place yourself on a strict diet of tallow and stale sandwiches containing genuine sand. Consume no bread that has not been immersed three times in a convenient drain or gutter.

APRIL.

Beg, borrow, steal or buy any remaining equipment which you have so far not been able to beg, borrow or steal.

MAY.

Ensure that dry batteries are not wet, or wet batteries dry, or alkaline batteries acid, or acid batteries alkaline. Bear always in mind that primary batteries are of secondary importance, and that secondary batteries don’t matter a dam.

JUNE.

Test all electric torch bulbs by dropping them on a tile floor of requisite hardness from a predetermined height of 7ft. 1in. Bulbs which fail to break should be tested again until success is achieved.

JULY.

Assure your suspicious spouse with glib, soothing, and convincing lies that nothing is further from your thoughts – so help you – than a dirty, filthy, low down, good-fornothing caving trip with a lots of dirty, filthy, good-for-nothing cavers.

Explain that you are gathering together and cleaning up all you tackle preparatory to selling it, that your dear, sweet, little wife may now buy that dress on which she has set her sweet little heart.

AUGUST.

Draw £10 Stirling from the bank and replace as far as possible the equipment sold by your dear little wife to a passing peddler for the goodly sum of 6/3d. Make a mental note to reduce the housekeeping allowance by 25% for the next ten years.

SEPTEMBER.

Increase the housekeeping allowance by 50% in the interests of world peace.

Solemnly promise across your black heart never again to deceive your poor neglected wife, who works her fingers to the bone whilst you gad about caving, boozing, swearing and generally having a helluva roaring time whilst your forgotten, neglected wife, who has devoted the best years of her life working her fingers to the bone, etc.

OCTOBER.

Stay at home washing dishes, peeling potatoes, scrubbing floors, and dusting shelves whilst your poor neglected wife works her fingers to the bone playing bridge, dancing and visiting the theatre.

NOVEMBER.

Carefully place a .45 slug right into the centre of your dear little wife’s heart.

DECEMBER.

Make an early start for your long promised trip. Approach the edge of the pot carefully, making sure that the noose is securely fastened. Mind you don’t fall and break your neck.

BB100/3 WEDDING BELLS The wedding took place at St. Mary’s Church, Great Sankey, on 15th October, between Francis M. Jackson and Raymond M. Wallis. The bride wore a white dress of heavy brocade and was attended by two bridesmaids, one in pink and one in blue.

The bridegroom who, together with the principal male guests wore morning dress, was attended by his brother, Allan.

The reception took place at the Old Vicarage Hotel, Stretton, and the happy couple left later for a honeymoon touring the West Country. Friends of the bridegroom, and there must be a few in the B.E.C., who do not know of ‘Pongo’, will be sorry to hear that a traditional B.E.C. send off, organised by your reporter and the best man was frustrated by the groom hiding his car and being driven from the reception in another car to pick it up. He and his bride were well marked with confetti however.

Roving Reporter. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Tony Johnson got married on the 19th November, to Miss Mary Edwards, at St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ GONE TO THE DOGS Easter 1955 marked the tenth anniversary of my first visit to Priddy. Sett, Pat Woodruff and I had gone down from Bristol University the previous summer and we wanted to break new ground in our caving. We arranged to catch the 6.00pm train from Paddington for Westbury, change for Wells and push-bike up to Priddy. When they opened the barrier at Paddington we rushed madly up the platform and bagged seats and flung our bikes in the luggage van. In due course we found ourselves at Devizes, the end of the line, having got on the wrong half of the train. We got as far as Frome and had to bike it from there. Dead tired we eventually arrived at the barn about midnight. There was quite a crowd in the barn. I forget now who was there, but the Bridgwater Caving Club were more-or-less tenant in those days. Shorty, Fricca and Eame, Frank Seward, Ian Nixon are the names that come to mind – some now B.E.C. members, others now lost to caving. Anyway, we were regaled with cups of tea and then dragged off down Swildons. A full trip too, right down to the sump. Of course, I fell in the double pot, but with a difference. Those were the days of caving by candlelight. I was totally immersed, barring one hand which held aloft a lighted candle rather like Excalibur. It must have been 4 or 5 am, when we got out – to be reminded that the date was 1st April.

Sometime in the summer we joined the B.E.C., since when the club has of course been steadily going to the dogs!

The barn taught us the delights of hay as a mattress and blankets. Normally it was the most comfortable couch one could want, but if Mr. Maine’s cows had been hungry lately, we shivered. At all events, the advent of the first Belfry was not unwelcome. Relations with Mr. Maine were becoming a trifle strained and we were not too welcome with Tom Hulin at the ‘Vic’ after Campbell Mckee had words with Mrs. Weekes at closing time. So instead we started to become civilised and after Easter 1947, we even had electricity due to the generosity of Uncle George giving us the generator and batteries via his nephews Pongo and Possle.

Really, things began to get disgusting and armchair caving set in.

For all the ‘good old days’ I cannot honestly regret the passing of the barn. I think as much caving is still done and if we don’t now go round with hay in our hair we are none the worse off for it. ‘Married Quarters’ are so much more respectable than rustlings in the hay.

Pongo _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

BB100/4 NOTES ON CAVE SURVEYING ___________PART IV__________ by Alfie The survey of the loop passage described in Part III is best tackled by a team of about 3. Besides the compass, steel tape and clinometer, and a stout notebook and pencils will be required, and the party should be equipped with good lights.

Having reached the junction of the main loop passages it is found that, by standing on the floor of the main passage, it is impossible to see into the loop passage, owing to the height if this above the floor so a point is chosen in the main passage from which the corner and the bank are both visible. A stalagmite on the floor marks the spot which is called Station 1. Station 2 is chosen on the top of the bank, where a line of sight down the loop passage may be taken, and a light set up at this point.

The compass is held at Station 1, and the reading of Station 2 is noted down -221o. The distance is measured by means of the steel tape -8’ 5� and the clinometer reads +45o. A light is now held at Station 1 and the bearing from 2 to 1 taken. The compass now reads 40o. This is known as the BACK BEARING of the reading from Station 1 to 2. Similarly a back reading on the clinometer can be taken from Station 2 to Station 1. This reads -46o. These back readings are taken as a check on the original readings from 1 to 2.

While still at Station 2 a third station is down in the loop passage on the corner, and is called Station 3, and the survey progresses in this manner.

A special arrangement is decided upon when the pot is reached and is shown in the sketch below.

From Station 5, the main passage can be seen again, and Station 6 can be seen from Stations 5 and 1. The circle is thus completed. Back bearings cannot be taken from Stations 4 and 5, owing to the impossibility of reading a compass from these positions backwards.

N.B. It is very important, while on a magnetic survey to keep all iron and steel articles well away from the compass. In this example, the steel tape must be kept well away. A member of the party with a steel caving hat is a particular menace on a magnetic survey.

Alfie. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

BB100/5 CAVING IN DERBYSHIRE PART 3. by Stan Gee. The Mines and caverns of Matloch and Matloch Bath.

Matloch although quite large tourist centre, has only one commercialised cave. This is known as the ‘Roman’ or ‘Fern Cave’. It is situated at the top of High Tor and is merely an open fissure with very passages.

It is interesting from a geological point of view, but otherwise it is not worth the hard climb up.

Another cavern of Matloch is Jugholes. This is not commercialised but even so, is probably one of the most visited caves in Derbyshire.

Jugholes is situated on the Snitterton side of Masson Hill, and can be reached by taking the road from Matloch to Snitterton Village, and then taking the footpath through Leawood Farm direct to the entrance of Jugholes.

The caverns are divided into two sections, called for convenience, the upper and lower systems.

The lower system is entered by a long mine passage, after a journey through a number of mined and natural caverns, terminates in a shaft, that leads upwards for 20ft. to the entrance of the upper system.

These caverns while being devoid of formations are extensive and worth a visit.

The upper system is also entered by a series of mine passages, and an iron laddered shaft of 15ft., gives access to the cave section.

From the base of this ladder, the way on is through an amazing boulder choke. This descends at a steep angle, to the cave proper. This choke terminates in the main cavern which is some 100 yards long and has a small stream running along the bottom. There are several passages off the various sections, bearing such names as ‘Rocky Mountains’, ‘Suez Canal’, and the Cellars. The latter is the most interesting, and in the passage to the ‘Cellars’ are many fine formations.

When exploring these systems, care should be taken as they are extremely complicated. It is also desirable to obtain permission to explore, from either the Derbyshire Stone Co., or from Operation Mole Speleological Group, the latter being something of an authority on the caves and are very co-operative.

Matloch Bath. Is situated some 1¾ miles from Matloch and is a great tourist centre.

Here one can spend vast sums of money doing nothing at all. Here everything to delight the tourist can be found, from medicinal waters, lovers walks, and boating on the Derwent, to ‘Exploring’ the mysterious caverns underground. There are also, the famous petrifying wells, each one with its assortment of boots, bird’s nests, and pay boxes.

There are three commercial caves, now open, though there used to be as many as nine.

The present caves are, The Royal Cumberland Cavern, The Rutland Cavern, and the Great Masson Cavern. I do not think we need to dwell to long on these as they all possess the usual characteristics of a commercial cavern. i.e., a wishing well (guaranteed) and fabulous formations, each with a fantastic name.

There are, however of some interest and can be found in close proximity to one another on the heights of Abraham.

There are many other caves close by, which though not of large dimensions possesses some very nice formations.

BB100/6 One of these is the Devonshire Cavern. This is situated on the north end of Upper Wood Rd., on a footpath to Bonsall. It is one of the old show caves, and its passages, mostly mined, extend for a considerable distance, are extremely complicated.

This cave is in danger of collapse and great care should be exercised.

The Ball Eye Mine is another cavern that was discovered by mining operations.

It is situated on the road from Bonsall to Cromford and lies opposite the ‘Via Gellia’ Dale. Although I have not personally visited this cave, it is reputed to be fairly extensive and to have a large amount of Calcite decoration.

Even though Matloch’s area is vastly commercialised, there is still much exploratory work to be done, and it is possible that entirely new systems will be found in the future.

Therefore may I raise my hat to those intrepid ‘Trogs’ who are prepared to brave the horrors of a tourist centre in the name of Speleology.

Stanley Gee. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

SOCIETY NEWS The Duke of Mendip.

On 15th October last, His Grace was concerned in scenes of considerable rejoicing among the tenantry on his northern estates when he joined in matrimony to Frances, Lady Jackson. The ceremony was performed among much pomp and splendour at the cathedral of Great Sankey. The tenants, peasantry and serfs were accommodated in the gallery, along with representatives of the press, etc., and were thereby restrained from mixing with the numerous representatives of the peerage, nobility etc., who crowded the pews reserved for their lordly persons.

His Grace was dressed with his customary elegance, the cut-away coat being of the very latest mode and was admirably set off by his exquisite carnation. Only by the lack of his nailed boots and fisherman’s hat would his Mendip serfs have failed to recognise their Lord.

After the ceremony Their Graces left on a tour of the West Country and have now taken up residence in their new seat. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ WANSDYKE

by Keith Gardner.

Whenever the Bath or Bristol member goes to the Belfry he crosses, knowingly or otherwise, one of our greatest national antiquities – Wansdyke, a linear earthwork starting at Inkpen Beacon near Hungerford and ending in Gordano country over seventy miles to the west. At some points en route it is an impressive monument rising high above its ditch (which is on its north side) while at other places the progress of agriculture has reduced it to a ‘ghost’ visible only from the air, under certain conditions.

For centuries the question of its age and purpose remained a mystery, answered only by legend and folklore, and even early Archaeologists such as Colt-Hoare and the Rev. Smith interpreted the evidence available in such a way that it was ‘proved’ to be pre-Roman. More recent work however, initially by General Pitt-Rivers has revealed that it has actually been built in places on top of the Roman road from Bath to London. A study of similar earthworks such as Offa’s Dyke which formed the boundary between Wales and Mercia, stretching from the Dee to Beachley, suggests that they were kingdom boundaries of the Dark Ages, i.e., that period between the collapse of the Roman economic civilisation and the final ascendancy of the Anglo-Saxon invaders.

BB100/7 This is the period when Artorious, the locally ordained Comes Brittaniarum was suppressing the bands of pirate invaders and generally organising military resistance in the absence of imperial legions. He, being presumably well versed in Roman fighting technique, probably organised his ‘home-guard’ on Roman lines, using frontier walls and employing heavy cavalry units against the lightly armed footmen form the Elbe. We are told of the many great victories which his superior methods produced and at the famous Battle of Mons Badonicus his men alone were responsible for the death of 960 invaders – a considerable number in those days. He became a legendary hero and gradually many stories of valour grew around him as the great King Arthur, gaining the tint of mediaeval chivalry though the imaginative pen of Geoffrey of Monmouth.

It is conceivable that Arthur or a person of similar office caused these boundary lines to be constructed all over the country, as he was not advisor to any one ruler but ‘fought with the Kings of Britain, being himself dux bellorum’.

For those who are interested in the itinerary of the dyke from Bath westwards it is roughly as follows.

From Odd Down it runs via English Combe along Stanton Prior Hill, to Stantonbury Camp, a fine but overgrown example of a hill fort, and then down the north-west slope to Wansdyke House, where the Keynsham road meets the Bath-Wells road. Passing Compton Dando it goes to Maesknoll, crossing the A37 near the railway bridge south of Hursley Hill, and then to Dundry where it turns north to Long Ashton and over Failand to a point near Portbury Priory where it appears to end in flat alluvial moors.

Although for long distances it is merely a single ditch and bank there are numerous enclosures and other remains attached to it, which might possibly be vestiges of the occupation sites of the persons engaged on the construction. Much field work needs to be carried out on these monuments and indeed the Society of Antiquaries are treating it as a prime research project and require assistance from local societies wherever these sites exist.

A TRIP TO SPITSBERGEN

by Thomas E. Fletcher.

It was through a chance remark In the ‘Tivoli’ in the Strand that I heard in May that a vacancy had suddenly arisen in the expedition to Spitsbergen, that a geologist climbing friend of mine has started to plan last Christmas. Ever since I first heard of the idea I was keen to go, but doubted whether time would allow, as I was due to take up an appointment in Tanganyika in the middle of the year. To add further difficulties there was the question of finance for a pure chemist can hardly make a case for financial support for vital research in the artic. But now I made a quick decision to go and for the next 6 weeks there was one mad rush to finish off a thesis, arrange with the Colonial Office to postpone my date of appointment, pack up my flat in London, and prepare for the trip. However, as always when one is presented with a dead-line everything gets done and falls into place and on the 30th July I sailed out of Newcastle bound for Bergen with the three other members of the expedition and some 10cwt. of equipment.

The party consisted of Jerry, a soil scientist who originated the idea; Fitz, a lecturer in Soil Chemistry at Aberdeen University on whom fell much of the organising, and Alan, a lecturer in Botany at Glasgow University. It was up the Norwegian coast that we picked up Ola our last member – a Norwegian soil scientist. The four days spent on the coastal steamer sailing north along the coast to Tromso were a sheer delight. We called in for an hour or two at numerous ports at all hours of the day and almost the non-existent night. The scenery is no doubt some of the finest in the world and the evening and night we sailed through the Lofoten Isles it was just too good to go to bed and miss. Much time was spent sunbathing and shutter clicking while some members of the party devoted a great deal of time furthering Anglo-Norwegian relations in a style that would be appreciated by any male member of the Club. It was all rather sad when the coastal express pulled away from the quay at Tromso and left for the North Cape taking with it so many happy friendly faces.

We had three days to spend before the ‘Lyngen’ sailed on its 600 mile trip across the Artic Ocean to Spitsbergen, or Svalbard as the Norwegians call it. Jerry and I had made plans to climb a mountain or two as near as Lyngen as possible the Lyngen peninsula itself being a mountaineers’ paradise but just too far away for us to tackle in such a short time.

BB100/8 We got off to a flying start in the morning and within four hours of getting up we had packed, eaten, bought food, hitched 25 miles, walked 2 or 3 miles to a base camp and were ready to start climbing.

Although on the 70th parallel it was as hot as if we were in Northern Italy, we had an excellent day climbing on a very fine 5000’ peak and traversing a most interesting ridge complete with abseils before we dropped down to the glacier again. The next day was just as good and the views of Lyngen were so splendid that I have resolved to go back to that part of Norway on my first leave. We returned to Tromso in very fine form having had an excellent ‘aperitif’ for whatever was held in store for us further North.

However, little did we think that the ‘Hors d’Oeuvres’ was to follow so quickly. As soon as we had left the sheltered waters of the coast and headed out towards Bear island the weather deteriorated and we had three days of hell, rather like doing Stoke Lane to the sun and back for 72 hours. However, the fog lifted and the heavy seas subsided as we reached the sheltered waters of Isfiord on the west coast of Svalbard. What a feast we had in store – first of all views of splendid mountains separated by gigantic glaciers coming down to the sea, and secondly breakfast the first meal we could eat for three days. What an orgy!

The expedition was interested mainly in studying soil formations in a periglacial climate to see if any light could be thrown on certain phenomena occurring in Scottish soils. This did not necessitate travelling far from Longearbyen – the Norwegian administrative and coal mining centre – before setting up base camp.

So we crossed Advent fiord to where there were some old disused huts of a derelict coal working. Within a day we had fitted up the old Directors office log cabin into a dining – sleeping room, kitchen, soils lab., and a botanical lab., and work started in earnest. At base I was chief cook and odd job man and turned my hand to a little soil chemistry. However, of the four weeks we were in Svalbard I spent about three-quarters of the time away on three main trips into the interior.

The country around us was carved into mountains some 3000’ feet high with the snow line at about 1500’ and all the mountain valleys and corries holding glaciers.

It was superb country for snow and ice mountaineering. The rock was sandstone and so severely frost shattered that climbing was out of the question, but there was so much general exploration to be done that, that did not worry me. Within a couple of days or so I was off with Fitz on a five day 55 mile round trip.

The area we were interested in from the scientific angle consisted of a mountain massif probably 25 miles by 15 miles surrounded by the sea on the North and West and separated from the rest of the mainland by two major valleys – Sassendalen and Adventdalen on the remaining two sides. The massif itself was roughly bisected by a valley running due North and South. Fitz and I set off with six days of food to circumnavigate the furthest half of our area. We had perfect weather and at one time there was not a cloud in the sky for 48 hours so we had continuous sunshine. We slept at trapper’s huts and one day while Fitz dug holes down to the perma-frost I went off on a solitary mission to an attractive peak at the head of a rather inviting glacier.

The views were splendid – ice and snow clad peaks in every direction as far as the eye could see. To the North one could see the blue waters of Sassenfiord with its little ice floes and beyond the high ground where a Cambridge and another British party were operating. The beauty was beyond description and the thought of those panoramic views still makes me forget all my trivial every day troubles. A highlight on the following day was when we put up on the coast a flock of some 100 -150 pink footed geese – a very fine sight indeed. They had only just got their flight feathers again though some could not raise themselves from the water they were still able to flap along a great speed.

Within two days of our return to base, I was off again – this time with Jerry. He wanted to camp in a certain valley in which he wanted to make a detailed study, and from a recce, he had decided that the glacier itself was the best camp site. Luckily, I found an almost ideal site about 100 yards before we reached the ice.

It was about the only flat piece of ground in the whole valley and happened to be covered in moss, but was situated on the edge of a steep and very loose bank of moraine above the glacial torrent. While the sun was on the tent it was heaven, but as soon as the cool air of the evening started to avalanche off the glacier it was a different matter. However, Black’s Icelandic sleeping bags kept us warm. While Jerry did his work, I had several days solid mountaineering – days of peak bagging in a sea of glaciers. I justified my existence scientifically, though I financed myself and was thus responsible to no grant making authority, by collecting the highest flowering plants, mosses and lichens that I could find for the botanist – Alan. Apparently new species and several new altitude records were established.

BB100/9 Within a couple of days of returning to base I was off on my last major journey, this time by myself. I wanted to look at the land to the south of us – to penetrate the Reindalen 25 miles away. So at 9pm one evening, I set off across the fiord and reached my first trappers hut at 11.30pm. The next day was the longest of the whole expedition; I was up at 7am and by 4pm I had reached the next hut several miles away, investigated several minor valleys on the way. This was a high hut and after a meal I shot up to the ridge 1000’ above me with my collecting tins and bags, and a day’s emergency food. The weather was still perfect, but it was obviously going to break as heavy clouds were forming in the mountains 40-50 miles away to the south. So I decide to make the trip to Reindalen there and then, along the 10 mile ridge before me. It was a ridge I shall always remember – again the views of hanging glaciers, icefalls, superb peaks as well as of huge snow and ice fields were beyond description. Being alone always enhances beauty to me, and certainly makes the memories more vivid. I reached the main valley of Reindalen at midnight and after wading a glacial river in which I almost became stuck, I made for an old trappers hut marked on the map.

When I came across a cache of food on the far bank left by a Cambridge – Sherbourne party I felt this was a bad omen. Why did they not leave it in the hut? Within the hour I knew the answer – an avalanche had destroyed the hut! Here I was at 1am with no shelter for the night, for I had left my sleeping bag at the previous hut, so I could not bivouac comfortably. So I nibbled some food and pressed back towards the north after taking a few photographs, with 10 miles between me and bed. I had intended returning via another ridge walk, but the clouds were beginning to form on the peaks nearby so I took the valley route (as if I wouldn’t at that time of night anyway!). At 2am I came across a reindeer round a boulder at 5 yards range. I still don’t know who was the more startled. We just stood and looked at each other, but by the time I was ready with the camera she had decided to make a retreat. At 5am I reached the hut that I had left 12 hours previously and after a meal sank into bed after a 23 hour day. 3 days later I was back again at base.

The weather was more than kind to us in Svalbard, but it had a treat in store for us on return. The trip south to Tromso was two stages worse than that going north, but it relented as soon as we travelled further south and we had another excellent trip going down the Norwegian coast. We disembarked at Tronheim and went to Oslo by train and then to Bergen and so back to England.

In Svalbard it was quite warm, rather like the high Alps – very warm in the day with coolish nights when the sun was low in the northern sky. At night it never froze a sea level, but probably at 1000’ or a little lower in the shade. However, it was getting decidedly nippy when we left at the end of August. The miners were beginning to talk of a long winter and the joys of skiing as soon as the light came again in late February.

Flowers abound at the lower altitudes – the dominant vegetation being the white petalled flower Dryas Octapetalus, while the yellow bloom of the artic poppy occurred up to about 3000’. We saw several specimens of musk-ox – a large shaggy sheep-like animal, artic fox and reindeer, but no polar bears. The birds were varied, but not so plentiful and interesting as the veritable feast I had in Iceland the previous summer. However, we had a pair of Artic Skuas, not above a mile from base. Every time we penetrated their territory we were duly dive-bombed, and a frightened experience it was at first, as these large birds dived within an inch or two of ones head and the draught of their wings beat into ones face.

The only caving I did was to look into an adit of one of the two major coal mines that the Norwegians run in the valley behind Longearbyen. The mines, which of course, are in permanently frozen rock, produce some very fine coal – the only coal Norway has in her own territories. The 2000 Norwegians are not the only miners up there, for there are a similar number of Russians in two other major mining areas.

Although Spitsbergen is only some 600 miles from the North Pole, it is quite easy of access. A daily coastal steamer sails from Bergen to Tromso and on to the Russian frontier and returns every day taking twelve days for the round trip. From Tromso ‘Lyngen’ makes four to five round trips northwards each summer, while coal boats ply between Svalbard and Norway as long as the ice will allow. The cost of the whole trip was just under £80, of which £50 was travelling expenses. However, the cost would have been up to the £100 mark if British industry had not played trumps and made us handsome gifts of watches and Weston meters to milk powder and salted peanuts. However, it is not an inaccessible country. With £80 and six or seven weeks to spare and the co-operation of the industrial world, a trip could be organised by a small group of keen types with relative ease. If anyone wants any advice just buy an airmail letter and send it to me please at Amani, Tanga, Tanganyika and I will be only too pleased to put them in the picture. And of course, if time is no object, then the journey to and from Tromso could be arranged easily by trawler and so £30 could be saved. What about a B.E.C. Svalbard Expedition soon…Why not?

Thomas E. Fletcher

BB100/10 THE BELFRY BULLETIN This is the 100th issue of the B.B. For this reason it is a bumper issue Since its inception in 1947, the B.B. has been a link between the active and non-active, the ‘Home’ and ‘Away’ Club members – copies have been sent regularly to other societies both in this country and abroad.

Except on the odd occasions when circumstances beyond our control prevented it, the B.B. has appeared regularly each month.

We started by publishing two foolscap pages, but found that three of quarto size were more acceptable. It is my ambition to have eventually a monthly issue with more pages than the ‘normal’ issue, but this of course depends on the inflow of material, especially of a caving nature – although active, there is a strange reluctance to put this activity on paper – when this is overcome the B.B. will become larger.

Finally, I would like to thank all those contributors who over the years have helped to make the B.B. a success.

T.H. Stanbury.

Hon. Editor. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ PERSONAL To Clare wife of Don Coase – a son – Jonathan. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ R.J. Bagshaw; Hon. Sec. & Hon. Treas. 56, Ponsford Road, Knowle, Bristol.4.

T.H. Stanbury; Hon. Editor. BB 48 Novers Park Road, Knowle, Bristol. 4. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ No resolutions for A.G.M. have yet been received.

The final date for the handing in of resolutions will be Friday January 20th 1956. These should be sent to the Hon. Sec. at the address as above. Any resolution received after thus date will have to be raised under A.O.B. at the A.G.M. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CAVING REPORTS A series of Caving Reports will be published from time to time. The first will be ready shortly. The title is the ‘Survey of Redcliffe Caves’.

The price of each report will be 2/6d.

The second report which is being prepared will be on St. Cuthberts Swallet.

Members wishing to receive these report regularly, can be placed on a circulation list.

Please send your names and addresses to the Hon. Sec. Copies will be available to members and persons not on the circulation list. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _