Dan-Yr-Ogof and the Welsh Caves

By the Editor

Long ago I read in a guide to South Wales about the beauties of the ravines of the Neath and its tributaries, the Mellte and Heppste, and had noted down the existence of a great arched cave, Porth-yr-Ogof. A vague account in Bradley’s Romance of Wales of an excursion inside with two candle-ends was all the information I could find, until I learnt from W. O. Duncan, of Birmingham, that he had explored it and had found also two other caves.

The Geological Atlas shows that the S. Welsh limestone is a band of only a mile or two in width, extending from sea to sea round the Millstone Grit and the Coal Measures, with two blocks in the Gower Peninsula and S. Pembroke. On the north side of the ring the rivers run south from the Old Red Sandstone area—the high ground of the Brecon Beacons, Fforest Fawr, and the Black Mountains—through the lime­stone, and on to the Grit and Coal Measures. The dip is gently to the south, and the master joints appear to be east and west. In Yorkshire the Old Red is absent, and the limestone lies directly on the Silurian ; also the water flows off the Yoredales on to the upper bed of limestone, but in S. Wales on the contrary it flows off the Old Red to strike the lower beds, and the Yoredales are not present.

Due to the fact that the northern part of the ring is in the heads of decidedly coaly dales, and was approached before the motor age only through hideous industrialism, the region has never been developed for tourists or thought of as the edge of delightful Breconshire, for it is not in Glamorgan.

Careful map study showed that beside the Mellte-Heppste-Upper Nedd region, there was a big rising at Dan-yr-Ogof near the head of the Tawe, the Swansea river, and considerably to the west at the source of the Llwchwr, which runs to Llanelly.

To lovely Brecon, whence I had climbed the Beacons years ago with Bonner, I came again in September, 1936, saw Porth-yr-Ogof in spate and nearly got through, did three little caves near, saw too the gorge of the Upper Nedd, and nearly finished a little cave there. I heard from the people at Cwm-y-Porth that a week before some Somerset men had been over with a boat and surveyed Porth-yr-Ogof (Arch of the Cave). Then on the way to St. David’s I went to the marvellous ruin of Craig Cennen Castle near Llandeilo, and across the valley to the Eye of the Llwchwr (Llygad Llwchwr), hopeless through the water but with a promising looking hole.

Most important of all, from Glyn Tawe I did the Vans, came down the Giedd to Sink-y-Giedd, a choked swallet against a little cliff with shale (rottenstone) at the base, traversed three miles of fell, no clints, many stretches of slab, and so down by the steep dry groove above Craig-y-Nos to Dan-yr-Ogof rising. A cave indeed ! I could not cross the flooded beck into the great black entrance, but that did not matter, for at the Gwyn Arms I learnt that the owner and his brothers had been in f mile and used a boat.

A real caving expedition was worth while, and for this I enlisted Platten and Gowing for the last week of May, and much correspondence followed over the boat question. After Upper Cradle Hole the advisability of buying a boat was often discussed, but the second Enniskillen party did nothing and had to confess their unwisdom. But Gowing and I went one day to Briggate to inspect a strange craft which looked like a cross between a baby’s bath and a balloon tyre. We fingered it, discussed how easily it would puncture and what would happen if it did, then said we would take it along. Five pounds, Franklin Pneumatic Boat, 4 ft. 8 in. by 2 ft. 6 in. inflated, 3 ft. by 8 ins. diameter deflated, weight 7 lbs.

Then it had to be packed up, and the picture of two men and a young lady assistant kneeling on and maltreating the boat in an effort to expel several hundred cubic feet of air through an infinitesimal orifice must have been highly diverting to the customers who gathered round. But at last the spoils were carried off in triumph and embarrassment, as the five foot paddle looked very like a double-ended fly-swat out in the street. Gowing has since sawn it in two and put on metal ends which screw together, but for Wales we sub­stituted a cricket bat arrangement.

The weather fights for the big caves.” This truism was some consolation as I drove along in May, 1937, through awful rain, and crawled in a thick fog from Buxton to Leek ; the sun did come out before I reached Wales, but Dan-yr-Ogof was in hopeless flood.

You don’t find roomy hotels at the heads, however beautiful, of coaly valleys, but my colleague at Brecon gave welcome and ready help and we established ourselves, one at the Prices’ delightful little inn, Gwyn Arms, Glyn Tawe, and two at Carreg Haffes farm behind it. Mr. Jeffrey Morgan of Abercrave had readily given us leave to explore Dan-yr-Ogof, which he had kept possession of, and watched, to prevent destruction.

Testing the Coracle by T.A. Morgan.  © Yorkshire Ramblers' Club

Testing the Coracle by T.A. Morgan

He came up and told us the tale of 1912, how he and his brothers had found a dry cave above the river cave (which can only be followed a painful 80 yards) and explored it up to a great pool, how a coracle had been bought and in it Mr. T. A. Morgan had voyaged 40 yards across the pool and 20 yards up a tunnel, landing near the foot of a waterfall. Pulling the coracle back with string, three others had followed, and after the leader had climbed the cataract and seen a watery tunnel beyond they had retreated.

Here we must record our very warm appreciation of the help we received from everybody we came across. All showed a real interest in our explorations, took us to caves,, came in with us, carried our tackle, and extended to us a real Welsh hospitality. Our thanks are due especially to Mr. Jeffrey Morgan who made us free of Dan-yr-Ogof and has so generously entertained us, to Mr. T. Ashwell Morgan and Mr. Ashford Price, his nephew, for their great work inside, to Mr. Llewellyn Morgan of Ystradgynlais who guided us to Llygad Llwchwr and back over a grand pass, to our hostess at Carreg Haffes, and not least to Mr. David Price, who housed our tackle at the Gwyn Arms, took us to Pwll Byfre, helped to carry to Fan Fraith Pot, crossed the ferries and could not do enough for us.

Dan-yr-Ogof.—The Tawe owing to a thick bed of drift does not go underground, and the Llynf el is the short and bounteous tributary which issues from the fine arch in the wooded curve of the western fellside between Gwyn Arms and Craig-y-Nos. The name (Undercave) is really that of the adjacent farm, and the cave might well be dubbed ” Cave of Boats.” High above are two small dry caves of archaeological interest.

Reinforced for Sunday by Nelstrop we were guided in on the 23rd, a wretched day, to the lower of two holes on the R. bank, then by two short crawls in opposite directions at higher levels to a small hole, now fitted with an iron door, into a roomy and very fine passage above the river. In it three pools are impounded, two rather deep, but not worthy of the rubber boat, which was dumped till needed.

Past gours and a gushing waterfall we came to a junction, T1.  A wide passage, right, led to a slope into the First Canal. A waterfall from the roof stopped us, but later Nelstrop rushed it and came to a dead-end. A bit behind, an upward crawl brought us to a hole we had seen before reaching T1.

Going left at T1 we came under a bridge to a place named ” The Parting” by the Morgans, and Gowing climbed into an upper passage. A few yards further is T2 ; to the left here a loop runs back to behind The Parting. To the right after a long and interesting bit of travelling, mostly good going, we finally crawled out on to the top of the scree in the unmistakable and impressive Bridge Chamber. On our immediate right was another hole, the end of an alternative way in.

Under the Bridge off the scree was a 20 ft. wide high chamber and we looked left over boulders to the First Pool, but first we went down scree to the Second Canal and left a candle burning there. The First Pool was deep and 12 yards long, but Nelstrop showed us the way ; somewhere ahead was a great roar of water. Over a steep bank was a shallower pool, some 20 yards, and then we stood on a narrow beach and looked at the Third Pool, the Coracle Pool as it proved ; it simply ran away into darkness. I confess that till we found the Three Pools it had never occurred to me that we were going to be up against pools of the Marble Arch type. I had thought only of passages of ordinary width and short pools. With that ominous roar ahead we agreed that the Morgans’ crossing of 1912 was a great effort.

Nelstrop made a gallant attempt at wading—at low water it goes about 30 yards—then we went back and waded the corner of the First Pool into a passage whence a way led down to a canal, the Second Canal as the candle in the distance showed. At the top of the Bridge Chamber we crawled up through the other hole into a magnificent chamber, evidently ” The Cauldron,” and going on past very fine stalactites came to an open space and a drop.

Here on a ledge was a bottle, securely sealed, and on the paper within we read, ” June 1912, J. L. Morgan, T. A. Morgan, Edwin Morgan, Morgan R. Williams (gamekeeper).” Some­what uncertain now as to whether the pool of the coracle was not somewhere further ahead, we climbed down the drop, came to a T Junction, went down to a canal with a waterfall from the roof, went back and came to a gushing waterfall. With one shout all four declared we were nearly out. We had come down Gowing’s climb to The Parting.

With the rubber boat the Stalactite or Cauldron route was retraced. At the First Pool Cymry was inflated and made its first voyage, a very wet one for the writer. Blown up much harder, two went over in it and two waded. Sitting in this size of rubber boat with one’s feet out over the bows, it feels easy to upset. Practice in daylight soon shows that this is almost impossible, since when filled with water.the boat is remarkably stable. A twelve stone man needs some skill to prevent water coming over the rounded gunwale, and must avoid rolling. To get in or out you stand astride of the boat in shallow water ; the problem of landing on a ledge from deep water has not yet been solved.

On the Third Pool Gowing with string attached went out over ninety feet and reported a closing in with a low tunnel discharging a strong current but running askew. He had to cut the string to get back. Nelstrop then went out 140 feet, got into the tunnel and saw the fall, but with the make­shift paddle the current was far too strong. So after Platten and I had paddled on the pool we retreated.

Our news of three pools was a puzzle, the Morgans having coped with only one pool. After thorough discussion Mr. Ashwell Morgan decided to go in again, and on the 25th he came up from Swansea and went in with Messrs. Ashford and David Price and the three of us. This time we took a passage above the Bridge, which twisted round at once and led to the wade in the far corner of the First Pool. Mr. Ashwell Morgan simply could not recognize the place in its flooded condition, and it was not until Gowing had taken Cymry into the tunnel and seen the waterfall, and we had explored everything back to the Parting and to the Pools again, that the identification was agreed. As I was leaving Glyn Tawe a week later after four days’ fine weather Platten rushed in with the news that the First Pool was down four feet, and the chances good with low water. But clearly a fleet of boats would be required.

During the summer Mr. T. A. Morgan’s old enthusiasm blazed out. Using a two-man boat of wood and canvas with side air chambers, he and Miss Coote and Mr. Ashford Price crossed the Coracle Pool. It must be recorded that Dr. Coote swam the whole way back. Climbing the side of the low cataract they went fifty yards through deep water, and climbing another cataract came under a lower roof to a Fourth Pool stretching into the distance.

Moreover Mr. Morgan somehow managed to get two wooden ladders into the Cauldron. Tied together they reached up a 30 foot wall to a narrow passage which in 29 yards led the party into the fine ” Red Chamber.” Here there is obviously an upper storey. For this Mr. Morgan provided ladders short enough to be got in, and with these in October Platten and two others found two chambers and a passage between.

For the September attack Platten recruited an army from Somerset and bought Red Cymry. As usual I took along an awful flood and drove the first half-hour in dense fog. It was hardly worth while going in on Saturday. The old hands and Dr. Baker found the second and third pools almost one, but we all boated. Ashford Price and Miss Coote made a determined attempt to get up against the current, pulling on the roof and sides of the tunnel, but gave up when a piece of rock came off into the boat.

Only two Southerners were at the supper to which Mr. J. L. Morgan entertained us, but a carload arrived at ten, loudly sounding the praises of South Welshmen. From Bristol over Aust Ferry they had worked their way in the dark through the colliery districts, men riding on the step to show them the turns, and good fellows going miles out of their way to pilot them. Three men arrived in the night.

Fifteen went in at eight, -Baker and I at ten through a dense flash-powder fog. Cymry was found soft and could not be blown up, so I arrived at the beach to learn to my joy that nine including Dr. Baker, were over, and the pool definitely lower. Weaver and Harris were first over against an awkward current in the tunnel; Weaver went on ferrying while Wigmore and Harris took Red Cymry up the cataracts. Harris found the Fourth Pool a backwater without visible inlet, but Miss Coote noticed a cave just where one emerged from under the low roof. Here was excellent landing, and the ferry only 15 yards.

Ten people crossed ; I got left behind while exploring a loop which ran steeply up and down to cracks by the first landing. We put in our time digging through the beach to lower Second Pool. The ten were pretty quick and came back reporting marvels ; they had reached a great Boulder Chamber and stopped beyond at some awful mud.

We others adjourned our crossing to the morrow, and all were out in mid-afternoon to meet the advance guard of the sightseers. Mr. J. L. Morgan entertained us to dinner at the inn, and after the world’s workers had driven off, at his house, where Cymry was tested and the fault traced to the pump.

Entering on September 20th with a wild idea that a train was to be caught at Swansea at 5.30, Miss Coote, Messrs. Ashwell Morgan, Ashford Price, D. Price (Gwyn Arms), Wigmore, Platten and Roberts found the pool much lower and no current in the tunnel. The landing was above water, in fact the flow comes under the rock there. With all three boats in use ferrying was very smart and great fun.

The 1937 Cave begins with a black limestone passage, rather low, dead-ends. An easy climb at its start led into a good passage leading to a fine chamber. Ware a deadly little hole in the floor ! A roomy passage with grottos took us into the lower storey of a big chamber, an overhang being straight ahead. A climb up the right wall finished in the entrance of a big passage, on the way back found untracked and 100 yards long, very fine and lofty in the further half, with a pit at the end and chances at the bottom. Going in, we traversed into a long chamber ending in a boulder slope.

Here we began to have trouble with some of the five acetylene lamps, which got worse and worse in spite of pricking. Through a narrow exit in one branch we came to the mud, which was tackled and a two storey chamber reached. The upper storey went and we came into an extensive low chamber with many pencil stalactites. (Mark your entry). Keeping left in the higher part we entered a lofty aven with a strong drip, and fed.

Narrow passages led to a terribly narrow crawl. Here T. A. Morgan and I struck, and while the other five went through to wallow in mud, I climbed an ascending rift to a boulder choke with breccia of two kinds which made one wonder if the surface was near.

It was a great show and there is more to be found. A month later Platten’s party got forward 100 yards to a sound of water, and found extensions off the chambers.

By the time we returned to the ferries, only one acetylene lamp worked feebly ; our retreat was made with candles and feeble electric lamps. The water had fallen yet more and one paddled out into the ocean of the Coracle Pool with the barring spike of Saturday high over head. Meeting the ferryman and his glimmer reminded one of ships at sea.

Llygad Llwchwr. We reconnoitred this the afternoon Platten arrived and finished it with the aid of Cymry the following Friday. (If you boldly pronounce the name as it is spelt, not being too superior to remember w is a vowel even in English, you will get a lot nearer than you will to the English spelling, Loughor, which beat us for weeks). The stream is discoloured and tastes muddy ; oddly enough it bifurcates at once, flowing into two rivers.

After some crawling which includes a loop, the passage becomes big and irregular, then one climbs to a higher level. The undergound river is reached at four points, three needing a short ladder, but two looking on to the same pool. This one was waded up 30 yards to an enclosed pool, and from the lower pool a wall was climbed into a tunnel 20 yards long. At another place Gowing voyaged 80 ft. across an enclosed backwater ; at the third the problem of leaving the boat for a pierced wall was unsolved. No connections were made, and the way in which the water entered and left these deep stretches was very curious. The local people have some pluck, dates were everywhere we reached, 1835 to 1933.

This is the cave at which the Daily Mirror located its mendacious account of Platten rescuing me from a watery grave.

The Nedd.—We lost two May mornings in the Ystradfellte region owing to very heavy rain. Pwll Du is not a rising of the river from a dry bed, but a pool of surface water with hardly any flow at the foot of a cliff. The actual rising is higher up the ravine.

Exploring the W. bank we heard of and uncovered a hole level with and S. of Cwm Farm. Gowing and Platten scrambled down twenty horrid feet with spiders to a chamber with dead sheep. The Great Chasm of the six-inch map was a huge shake-hole under a cliff ; Platten drew a blank with a dead badger.

At the Pwll-y-Rhyd bridge we were disgusted by the quick finish of the Bridge Cave, in which we heard water loudly. At Pwll-y-Rhyd, a great joint cutting across the dry bed, you can if you like lie down in the water of the cave at one end and wriggle into a wet chamber where you can stand up and climb out to daylight. The day did not invite ; we missed out the middle.

A very jolly bit of gorge leads down to three caves, Upper White Lady, a fine opening of which there is a photo in North’s Limestones, and White Lady on the R. bank, with Arcade Cave a little lower down on the L. bank. We used Cymry on the three pools of Upper White Lady and were disappointed, though it is a fine straight view to daylight from the far end. In a branch is a fourth pool, obviously connected with the pool in White Lady Cave.

The Arcade Cave had been partly explored by the Birming­ham men and Tom and Lewis Lewis who now came along. Mr. Braithwaite’s party apparently did it at Easter, calling it ” town drain,” a vile libel. It follows well marked joints, magnetic N. and true E., and tends south ; we made it 460 yards long. After seeming good for miles, it suddenly closes in solid.

The Lewises of Blaen-Nedd-isaf told us of a pot hole on the moors, so to have their guidance we drove all the way round again and carried two ladders to where we had guessed it to be, close to the swallet of a stream coming off Fan Fraith, unnamed on any map, one mile E. of Pwll Byfre (the swallet of the Byfre). We named it Fan Fraith Pot, but Mr. Braithwaite’s party, described to us as'” novices from Cardiff,” who made the first descent at Easter, with the aid of a horse for their ladders, call it Pant Mawr Pot which seems even more vague. We did a little pot on the way up, but it was grand to get hold of a ladder again for a 60 ft. climb after the small beer of ” mere caves.” It is a fine pot, the only worthy pot found so far in Wales, and there is a grand wide passage below downstream with some amusing work upstream.

Ystradfellte.—East of the Mellte Castle-Hirwaun road we did the Gwaen Cefn-y-Carreg Pots at 1,200 ft., 100 yards up a steep hillside, shown as ” cave ” on the six-inch map. Under a great flat roof of basal conglomerate of the Millstone Grit are three pots, their sides once covered with ” rags.” The outer was climbed, and the innermost laddered 30 feet giving entrance to the middle one.

Gowing had gone back to work when Platten and I boated on the great pool of Porth-yr-Ogof, a most impressive place, surrounded by an entertaining labyrinth. I waded the length of the shallows and got out at the sink-holes, but the stink was too awful to continue nearer to the rising. The curious White. Horse seems to be natural; it is so like a drawing as to suggest a whitewashed fake.

Cwm Dwr Quarry Cave is a hole in the quarry face close to Craig-y-Nos station. It had never been done, and might have been deep but for a great slope of scree. However it did need a short ladder to hold the rock together, and contained three chambers with some amusing scrambling in an old stream passage.

This was our last expedition in May. The weather had not treated us too kindly, except for the one blazing sunny day on which I made a trek across the fells to the Twrch, but the ten days had been great fun, and one knew where to look for new, if minor, possibilities. We had put Wales on the map !