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No 231 May & June 1967 The Belfry Bulletin – Volume Twenty One – Number Five and Six May and June Number. Yes, it’s happened again. For the second time during the Editorship of the present editor, a number has to be missed out. The last time this occurred was November 1959. On that occasion, a series of mishaps to the duplicator was to blame. This time, it has been mainly the lack of material. When the first editorial of this “regime” was written, for B.B. number 110 in March, 1957; it was said that articles would be obtained “by passing amongst you with a big stick”. The editor has, for some time now, felt that he has not been doing this job as well as he once did. Eleven years is a long time, and it would seem to be the best thing for the Club to have a new face running the B.B. next year. We hope to be able to make a suitable suggestion to the A.G.M., but meanwhile, the present editor will try to produce a last minute spurt with the few issues remaining under his editorship. “Alfie” _______________________________________________________________________________________
de Joly and all that ……by Kevin Barnes. Belgium contains on of the finest cave systems in the world – the Grotte de Han. Its size, formations and waterways are well worth a visit in spite of the extravagant entrance fee. But what I intended to tackle was the Chasm of Belvaux where the river Lesse disappeared underground, only to appear 1,138 metres through the mountain at the Grotte de Han. In 1818, the Comte de Robiano tried to sound the mystery of the chasm, and more recently, M de Joly attempted the source in a diving suit, only to find the same trouble as my story will tell. To look at the chasm on a postcard is quite something, but when one gets close up in real life, it is different. The river Lesse, in a fast swirling torrent, enters the chasm and turns round an ‘L’ shaped bend and then travels for fifteen metres in an underground gorge before disappearing below the rock. However, packed between this sump and the ‘L’ shaped bend is the most grotesque collection of bottles, tins, bits of wood and debris in general. This, however, should be nothing to daunt the foolhardy, so I donned my wetsuit and secured a line with a belay by two companions, I entered the water. The water in the chasm may be divided into two parts. On the opposite bank was the fast rushing white water, while the near side was a slightly more placid type. My first attempt got me within ten feet of the debris, and it was only when I found myself drifting upstream that I realised that the more placid water consisted of a strong eddy current in opposition to the main stream. This meant that I could only approach the debris from the fast flowing side. I had the good fortune to have an airbed, which was quickly inflated and, hanging on to it, I paddles forth. Every time I got near the main stream, I was forced out again. A few seconds later, I fell off the airbed and was ignominiously dragged ashore. Having taken a few breaths and told myself I was an idiot, I once more sat astride the airbed. This time I lunged at the stream and suddenly I was in the main flow. Disaster struck. I headed straight in to the rock face. The airbed overturned and the pair of us were hurled with some force against the debris. I straightened up, shaking and found myself on a log which was submerged four feet below the water. The debris was a mass of oscillating rubbish and the smell was vile. Using the airbed as a type of float on a mass of quicksand, I climbed on top of the debris, and made my way to the sump end. The debris ended in a mass of logs each a foot in diameter completely blocking the way on. I could find no way through, round or over them, and I set out for the return journey.