Rain clouds visiting.
Branches, they crash in the wind.
The thirsty earth drinks.
It was raining hard on Friday, and our animals were not happy about it. Our cat Bonnie keeps asking to go out, steps two paws onto the welcome mat, then runs back in, meowing at me as if it’s my fault it’s raining. Lola our dog needs to be convinced that she’s brave enough to go outside onto the wet grass to take her morning dump.
These poor animals. Imagine if your toilet was literally outside in a storm with no shelter. It would make it pretty hard to scroll on Instagram, your phone screen doing random shit because the raindrops are triggering the touchscreen. Smh.
This stormy weather makes me think of a story.
Over the past couple of years, I picked up the morbid hobby of binging the YouTube channel Scary Interesting, listening to stories about people disappearing. I’d listen to stories about both experienced and inexperienced cavers ignoring loud warning signs and ending up dead, and I’d think to myself “The dangers were so obvious! How did they ignore them? I’d never do that.” Well, I was wrong.
My boyfriend, my dog, and I, as well as the woman leading us, definitely almost drowned in a glowworm cave.
There were showers all through the morning. We had booked our glowworm experience the day before and had been driving for a couple of hours. As we drove over small, fast-moving streams, we commented on the rainfall, saying we needed to dress warmly before signing in. When we arrived, a kind young woman greeted us and tells us that she had almost canceled the tour because of the rain but could offer us a half-cave tour instead of the full experience. Bundled up in rain jackets, my boyfriend carried our small dog in his jacket pocket so she could be with us instead of waiting in the car alone.
We walked up to the cave entrance, standing on a small bridge with a loud stream below it, stopping to take photos. The rain was falling a little harder. We switched on our lanterns and began walking through. Inside the cave, most of where we walked were wooden bridges elevated off the ground.
At one point, we went down some stairs and back up again to get around a low-hanging section of the cave. What I’m sure was usually just a trickle of water had become a raging stream below us, only a few meters away from the bridge, yet we continued deeper into the cave.
The guide was forced to raise her voice so we could hear her over the rushing water. She told us ancient stories about the cave and explained that the glowworms’ light came from their glowing poop. It was definitely magical in there. After spending some time at the halfway point, we began our return.
We made it back to the low-hanging section. In the darkness, with only dim lanterns, we could just make out that the water was now a meter or so away from us. We laughed nervously as we ducked and continued on our path.
But that water had risen in only a matter of minutes. Imagine if we had arrived any later, taken any longer to get into warm clothes, or if we had stayed at the halfway point asking more questions about the cave’s history. Where would the water have been then? It’s kind of terrifying to think about. But it really shows how easy it is to ignore obvious warning signs, especially when you are with others and they seem okay with it too.
After making it out alive, though, the glowworms were incredible, like a galaxy within reach (the cave was literally named Milky Way). You have to go on a tour if you ever get the chance. But maybe check the weather before you book.
TL;DR: I watch dumb people entering caves on youtube, and it turns out I’m also a dumb person entering caves. I found myself walking around on a bridge in a cave of rising floodwaters just to see some glowing worm poop. The universe has a funny way of teaching humility. But the glowworms were totally awesome, definitely book a tour if you get a chance. Just maybe check the weather forecast first.
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