Blacker Than Black — Mostly Harmless

DAVE, OUR AUSSIE GUIDE was a foul-mouthed, chain-smoking atheist who had no problem speaking his mind, or blaming the Catholics.

He was taking us to The Dark Cave, situated at the edge of the UNESCO-protected Phong Nha Ke-Bang National Park. While the cave’s name may be uninspired, the experience inside certainly was not.

Getting there we crossed overgrown, defunct segments of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, the former military supply route between the Vietcong in the north and their supporters in South Vietnam. In an attempt to choke the communication between north and south, the U.S. conducted the most intense bombing campaign in history, with “Operation Barrell Roll” and “Operation Steel Tiger”, they dropped two million tons of bombs over Laos alone, hitting strategic targets but also civilian settlements and farms.

Another stop before The Dark Cave was to pay our respects to eight young women who starved to death over nine days in a cave in the early 1970’s. Hiding from U.S. bombs, they became trapped when a boulder was lodged across their only exit. The cave is now reverentially named “The Cave of the Eight Ladies”.

In near silence, we all lit a stick of incense and placed it, smoldering end up, into an ornate earth-filled vessel.

Jumping back into the hot van after a sobering history lesson told through a cantankerous filter, we were ready for the cool waters of the cave we knew to expect. A few minutes more on the road and the dusty brakes squeaked to a halt as we arrived at our final destination for the afternoon.

The Chay River, turquoise and tempting, lie in sight just to the west, babbling loudly as it bounced around smooth stones. It lured us over with an unspoken promise of relief from the suffocating heat, and we all plunged in. What we didn’t know at the time was that this river came from the same water system we lunched next to deep inside of Paradise Cave.

Here, everything seems connected.

Once pleasantly cooled off, we swam ahead and around a bend, admiring the luscious jungle dipping a vine here, a root there, into our perfect pool. Kayaks waiting at the next rocky beach were quickly mounted in excitement, and carried our group the rest of the way to the imposing, cathedral-height mouth of The Dark Cave, complete with jagged stony teeth.

Luckily for us, The Dark Cave was not hungry on our visit…

In nothing but swim gear, swim shoes and headlamps, we worked our way past the sunlit opening. Cool winds whipping around inside the amphitheater sent shivers throughout our scantily-clad group. We plodded along through muddy bogs, and noticed the sunlight failing to reach us more and more with each step. Stopping where the land stopped, and a cold cave lake began, we were met with utter darkness.

We could not see how far the pool stretched, nor what was in it. A few somewhat slippery, but overall solid steps in then, sploosh! The rocks below dropped off and the cold, eerily still water was well over our heads.

Slowly…hesitantly, we swam forward in complete darkness, our direction lit only by the faint light of our aged headlamps. I tried to remain buoyant and in a dog paddle, taking deep breaths, and keeping every part of my body as close to the surface as possible. The farther down into the cold I allowed my legs and feet to wander, the more I feared how I might react to a tickle, a touch, a tug from below in this uncertain darkness. This was no place to panic.

My heartbeat quickening, my breaths getting shallower, and my arms craving rest, my fear of the unknown was superseded by my fear of drowning, so I paddled harder, knowing that Fernando is always okay. Pulling away from the group, but not forgetting Dave’s morning jokes about how “the person in front always dies first”, if I could have been cautious, I would have been, but sink/swim and turn around/move ahead were my only choices.

Dave, who was already busy carrying an exhausted swimmer on his back, threw his booming voice far ahead, echoing off the cave walls (and hopefully not waking up any toothy cave eels). Crushing my knee into a jagged rock, I had found the halfway point ahead of the others. I sat back with pain shooting up my leg, and a survivor’s smile on my face.

The rest of the group scrambled up the wet stones and sat perched for the next few minutes, finding our breath. Together, we shut off our headlamps and experienced the total darkness, silence, and coolness which The Dark Cave is known for. This is when I allowed my imagination to run wild, as I like to do from time to time.

“New species of fresh-water, man-eating squid discovered in central Vietnam, during a search for missing kayakers. No bodies were found, just discarded headlamps."

"Eyeless, gilled, family of six found living deep within The Dark Cave in central Vietnam. The albino, long-nailed cannibals have been surviving off of the flesh of unsuspecting kayakers and spelunkers.”

A nibble on my thigh sent me into a brief panic, and I kicked my leg and slipped off the safety of my stone pedestal. No one could see me, they could only hear my spazzing and splashing, so I shouted, “I’m okay!”, although I was not yet sure that was true. Isn’t it incredible how quickly one puts the comfort of others ahead of their own?

Realizing a harmless minnow had set me off made me feel silly so I was able to keep my cool for the rest of the swim.

———-

VERDICT: Mostly Harmless - if you’re a strong swimmer.

LINKS:

The Dark Cave: Named for the lack of artificial lighting, found in most caves open to tourists in Vietnam. Off the Chay River. NOTE: Much has changed at The Dark Cave since our visit in 2012. Today you can even zip line into it - the link will help you navigate everything offered.

Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park: UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2003, holds 400-million-year-old karst systems and the world’s largest cave.

Ho Chi Minh Trail: Supply route connecting north and south Vietnam during the war.

The Cave of the Eight Ladies: Temple dedicated to eight martyrs of the war in Vietnam.