First exploration of Lava-tube caves in Arabia with John Roobol
The Caves of Kishb
Chapter 13 of “Underground in Arabia”
by John Pint
The project to hunt for caves in the vast, volcanic wastes of western Saudi Arabia, got its start with a little push from “the grand old man of US caving,” Bill Halliday. No sooner had I arrived at the Saudi Geologicial Survey in Jeddah, than I was handed a computer printout by my new boss, Mahmoud. “Someone has sent you an Email, John,” he told me. Well, I didn’t even have an Email address yet, so I figured this must really be important…and so it was:
“I notice there are lava fields not far from Jeddah,” wrote Halliday. “Are there any lava tubes to be found?”
Well, I repeated that question to quite a few French, US and Saudi geologists during the next few months, but none of them could give me an answer. “The man you need to talk to,” they all replied, “is Dr. John Roobol. He spent years in those miserable lava fields. Right now he’s on leave, but he’ll be back.”
Nearly a year went by before John Roobol finished sailing around the world and by then I had forgotten all about searching for lava caves, completely distracted by limestone caves filled with fascinating calcite and gypsum formations, great caches of mysterious bones and several fiercely blowing leads. But then, one fine day, the doorway to my office was filled with the frame of a big, big man. “So you’re interested in lava tubes,” boomed the voice of John Roobol and there and then began a new chapter in Middle East speleology.
Yes, said Roobol, at last answering the question of Dr. Halliday: there were lava tubes in Saudi Arabia. Many of them he had spotted during helicopter flights over vast stretches of lava and he had actually entered one of them, where he found beautiful, long, spindly lava stalactites hanging from the ceiling. However, to his knowledge, that was the extent of lava-cave exploration in Saudi Arabia, with no maps or surveys ever having been carried out.
I learned that there are about 89,000 square kilometers of lava fields on the Arabian Shield, which covers most of western Saudi Arabia. Reaching the majority of these areas by helicopter is difficult, due to the great distances involved, refueling problems and, of course, astronomical costs. If, however, you have a vehicle with good tires and several spares, you can attempt to navigate the Bedouin tracks that criss-cross the lava fields, locally known as harrats. “The shortest distance between two points, when you’re driving across a harrat, is not a straight line,” said John Roobol, because the sharp-edged chunks of basalt are death to tires. You have to stay on the tracks, but the tracks go every which way.
Obviously, a guide is invaluable for Harrat navigating and I was delighted when Roobol offered to lead our first vulcanospeleological expedition to Jebel Hil, a scoria cone near which he had seen at least a half dozen lava-tube entrances some years earlier.
Jebel Hil (also spelled Jabal Hil) is located in Harrat Kishb, a lava field located only some 250 kilometers from Jeddah. I thought my caver-trainees would be delighted about this, but they told me “Those lava fields are thick with mosquitoes and if you light a lantern at your campsite, you’ll see big scorpions running towards it in minutes…and every pool of water you find out there has huge black snakes in it which are famous for jumping right out of the water and attacking anyone foolish enough to come near.”
Rough terrain: Mahmoud Al-Shanti in Harrat Kishb
It sounded delightful, but we had heard even worse stories about what is supposed to lurk inside limestone caves and had lived to tell the tale. So, in November of 2001 our expedition of ten men and one woman (my wife Susy, of course!), drove off towards Harrat Kishb. Our hopes for success on this mission were greatly bolstered by a bit of pure luck. By sheer co-incidence, John Roobol had been handed a set of photographs, taken somewhere in Kishb by a hunter. Several imposing lava-tube entrances were shown, proving that large walk-in caves were waiting for us, but, unfortunately, we had no clue as to exactly where the pictures had been taken.
Because we had gotten off to a typically late start, darkness had already fallen as we approached Wahbah Crater, a monsterous, two-kilometer-wide hole in the ground created by a series of explosions caused by spring water reaching a deep area of thermal activity. This is a favorite hiking and camping spot for foreigners living in western Saudi Arabia and easy to reach by road. However, our caravan would have driven straight over the crater edge if our fellow caver, Mahmoud Al-Shanti hadn’t wisely stopped just beyond a “barrier” of three side-by-side oil drums. In the lights of our three Land Cruisers and one truck, we walked forward a few steps and discovered we were right on the edge of a 200-meter drop to the bottom of the crater! This, it was decided, was a fine place to camp. “The strong breeze will keep away the mosquitoes,” said Mahmoud. Apparently there were no sleepwalkers in the group and no-one minded camping four meters from the brink of a deep chasm.
Stuck
For hours we worked our way through great black blankets of volcanic rubble, broken by occasional smooth, flat areas dotted with acacia trees. In one of them we found “the only thick sand I’ve ever seen around here,” according to John Roobol and, of course, we managed to get our ancient pickup truck hopelessly stuck in it. After doing our best to burn out the engine, we finally resorted to the infallible way to get out of the sand: we let the air in our tires down to 15 lbs, drove right out, and then spent a very long time pumping the air back in, using my 12 volt air pump.
At last we found ourselves on top of a somewhat flat place alongside Jebel Hil and - lo and behold! – while searching for a good camping spot, we spotted a dark patch on a low wall. This proved to be a vertical cave entrance about 20 meters high. Leaning over the edge, spacious tunnels could be seen going off in opposite directions. Our first lava tube!
We set up camp nearby, ate and decided to go have a look at the series of holes proceeding from Jebel Hil.
A ten-minute drive brought us to a lookout point right beside the volcano. We had a magnificent view of the flat plain below us but, alas, couldn’t see the line of collapses from this position.
“You can see everything from the top of volcano,” remarked John Roobol, who (as is his way) immediately began climbing. Well, it was about 4:45 and it looked like we could just make it to the top and back before sunset, so we all followed him.
Roobling up the Volcano
Ah, but this “Hil” is not a “hill” up which one can merrily prance while filling the air with the sound of music! No, I swear the sides of this volcano are as close to 90 degrees as I would ever want to get and only 20 meters or so on the way up you could see almost every member of the group hanging onto some tiny knob of rock, the only thing solid in a sea of loose scoria (which is like lightweight gravel), almost everyone, that is, because Abdulrahman, the biggest guy among us (excluding JR, of course) was dashing up that exasperating mountain like a rabbit. “He’s a bedu; that explains it,” I said to myself, but then who did I see right behind Abdulrahman, but Saeed, who is not a bedu and who usually looks terrified every time he has to do a rappel.
“Gulp, I guess if they can do it, so can I,” I muttered and began inching my way up that wretched slope, which grew ever steeper as the few handholds were replaced by fine scree. By then I was halfway up and could see the silhouettes of my two trainees on top of the cone. I had to keep going.
It seemed as if an eternity passed before I made it. After catching my breath, I began to take pictures of the magnificent interior of the crater, in which you could see a wide, flat “ledge” which had once been the surface of a lake of lava, and the collapsed hole through which lava had flowed into… yes, on the plain far below you could just discern one of those collapses in what must be a mighty impressive lava tube.
And then I heard a female voice. I couldn’t believe it! Susy’s head popped over the edge! Later she said, “When I saw that you had made it, I knew that I could too.” Now tell me, is this a compliment?
John Roobol and Ghassan came over the edge next and he was the last. As we walked along the crater’s narrow rim, John enthusiastically described Jebel Hil’s geology and history. Meanwhile, sunset was approaching and we were wondering just how we were going to get back down. “Well, certainly not the way we came up,” said John. “It’s much too steep. We’ll go down another way.”
We continued walking a lot farther and then checked the slope. It was even steeper than where we had climbed up and 100% scree. Besides, it looked like there was a sheer drop about halfway down.
“John, how did you go down last time?”
“Well, now, the last time I was here, as you may recall, was by helicopter.”
“You mean you’ve never climbed down before?”
“Nor up.”
Burnt Bottoms
This explains how six apparently rational beings sat down on a nearly vertical slope and tried to slide down on their posteriors, hoping they wouldn’t make the small mistake that could start them tumbling down the volcanoside like snowballs.
Well, most of us ended up shredding the seat of our pants, all except JR, who used his rucksack as a sled and came out of it with his backside unscathed.
Somehow we all survived and may even have achieved fame as the first brave souls to have climbed and butt-tobogganed down Jebel Hil. In addition, we had all learned that John Roobol is even crazier than a caver.
The Bed That Ate Shoes
On Tuesday morning we split into two groups. Four valiant souls went to hunt for the lava tube holes below Jebel Hil. They trudged some 12 kilometers over a very rough lava bed, visiting each entrance, noting depth, diameter and amount of collapse, etc. They found ten vents, six of which were collapse openings above a cave floor lying from 22 to 42 meters below.
The lava tube appeared to be about 20 meters high and at least three kilometers long. Commented Mahmoud: “There was pahoehoe lava above the lava tube, but what we had to walk over was prickly Aa lava most of the time with irregular, loose chunks ready to break your ankle mixed with thin pieces ready to collapse under your weight. John Roobol kept reminding us to be careful with every step because ‘We could all die out here.’” They returned, not dead, but dead tired, around 5 PM, having lost considerable shoe leather. But, they had documented a long, east-west oriented lava tube with secondary tubes leading north and south from several of the vents. To this writing, no one has returned to actually step inside any part of Jebel Hil Cave!
I was in group two, whose mission was to map the three lava caves seen by John Roobol’s hunter friend, which we had managed to locate the day before with the help of some Bedouins. I “guided” our driver “Eagle-eye Sa’ad” to the site using GPS coordinates, a method of navigation Sa’ad did not approve of at all. On the way back he asked me not to use the GPS and he got us home in half the time, by an entirely different route!
First Lava Tube Survey
Upon reaching the entrance to the first cave, I think I sent my three Saudi trainees into a state of shock by announcing that they would carry out the first survey of a Saudi lava tube. Susy and I would merely assist.
We then spent a while practicing how to use the compass, clinometer and Disto digital measuring device as well as how to put data into a survey book. This lava tube is about four meters high, 157 meters long and easy walking all the way. About half-way in, we began to see small basalt stalactites which had once been drops of molten lava. According to John Roobol, the cave was 1000 degrees, walls glowing red, when this happened. Seventy-five meters from the entrance we found a raised side chamber with what appear to be very old hyena, wolf and who-knows-what droppings, surrounded by bones.
Twelve survey stations later we came to the end of the cave and the home of a handful of bats. The floor was smooth, dried mud of undetermined depth, sectioned in a nice-looking pattern. Near here were also a number of “soda-straw lava-mites,” thin and delicate-looking, but, of course, hard as rock.
Exiting this cave, I asked the surveyors what they wanted to name it. “Kahf Mut’eb” they told me. This translates as Very-Difficult Cave. Now, if this is how my trainees categorize surveying a flat, smooth easy-walkin’ single passage, what would they think of the kind where you have to take readings while lying on your belly in a tight crawlway half full of a gooey mixture of guano, mud and bat urine?
Worn out from their “ordeal” and aching for lunch, the survey crew preferred to stand by and let me have all the pleasure of exploring the 7-meter-deep hole just a short walk away.
Ghostly Cave
There was a big pile of breakdown below, on one side of the hole, so I only had to climb the ladder five meters to reach these rocks. I could see passages going off in opposite directions. I walked over to the one heading west. The entrance to it was long and low. I bent over and peeked inside. In the half-light beyond, I could see a large chamber filled with figures. It was as if I had surprised a gathering of skinny goblins and they had immediately turned to stone.
Slowly – and I do mean slowly! – I stepped into the room. “These statues look like stalagmites,” I thought to myself, “but there are no stalactites above them, and, besides, I’m in a lava tube, not a limestone cave.”
On closer examination I found that these strange figures were made of bird droppings. There must have been fifty of them in there, the tallest standing five feet (1.52 m). Now, one rock dove had flown out of that room when I entered, but what had happened to all the others?
I also wondered how old those “guanomites” (as we began to call them) were, as I made my way through them, deeper into the cave. The floor consisted of fine, powdery dirt covered with a thin layer of bird guano. It crunched like snow. At one point, I broke through the crust and my foot sank down 20 centimeters. This was a new sort of cave experience for me and I regret I was in a hurry and couldn’t examine the place better.
I followed this passage to its end where I found stuffy air and a handful of very small bats. A later survey would show I was 135 meters from the entrance. On the way back, I checked out a short passage parallel to the main one. On the floor I found a flat, vaguely L-shaped stick which I thought was a bit curious. I stuck it into a hole in the wall and followed this passage to its end, which was blocked with breakdown through which I could see daylight. However, I couldn’t get through, so I made my way back to the collapse entrance the long way.
The eastern passage of this cave also looked interesting, but I was running out of time. I took a quick peek, though, and saw only a few guanomites inside a big room some 40 meters wide. A large part of the wall and roof were covered with a crispy crust of a pure white mineral which I imagined was gypsum. At the end of this room the passage kept going. Good reason for a return trip, I figured and headed back to the cable ladder.
A few months later found us back in Harrat Kishb. This time we decided to pitch our tents on a flat patch of black ash just a short walk from Ghostly Cave.
As we stood at the edge of the entrance collapse, I was impressed how easily our team of Saudis were now handling knots, ladders, belaying, cable ladders and surveying. Indeed, with the three geologists handling the mapping, Susy and I could concentrate on photography the whole time.
We spent some time shooting the entrance with the tall guanomites lurking just inside like silent statues, and the remains of a very old stone wall poking out of the guano-covered floor. Then the survey team reappeared, all three of them coughing, rubbing their eyes and wondering how a khawagi (foreigner) had ever talked them into entering a place like that.
The cause of their misery was, of course, the thick layer of white “dust” on the passage floor. But, as good geologists, they had taken a sample of it, which showed it consists mainly of calcium, potassium and phosphate. JR called it “bone dust” and it is so thick inside the cave that a crust has formed on the top which your foot breaks through, sinking into very light powder.
We then took a look at the large room and passage on the east side of the entrance hole. This one led about 100 meters back to a bat chamber where a glimmer of daylight could be seen through the obviously thin ceiling, which sported several brown bat-urine stains.
In this section of the cave, Mahmoud discovered a flat, nearly L-shaped stick much like the one I had stuck into the wall in the small parallel passage, which stick he had also retrieved. Both of them looked like boomerangs and Roobol later remarked that throwing-sticks like these were used in this area by Neolithic people six to eight thousand years ago, a claim he later backed up by showing us pictures of rock art—discovered near the town of Hail—which depict flat-headed people holding L-shaped sticks much like the ones in Ghostly cave.
Throwing Sticks Found in Ghostly Cave. The curved upper surface of these sticks provides aerodynamic lift. They are thought to be Neolithic but have never been carbon-dated.
We spent that evening sitting on our carpet, near a blazing fire under a starry sky, playing “Oh Guano!” by the light of a gas lamp and to the hubbly-bubbly sound of a water pipe. I’m sure it was the first time in the history of Harrat Kishb that such an activity had been undertaken by three Saudis, an Afghan, a Gringo and a Mexican (female, to boot!).
Knotty Curse
The next day we spent some time taking photos in Mut’eb Cave. Deep inside the cave we needed a hiding place for a Coleman lamp and I asked Mahmoud to lift up a big, flat rock lying on the dirt floor. He picked up this rock and suddenly I heard a gasp and “Oh no!”
“What’s wrong, Mahmoud?”I cried, “Are you OK?” He put down the rock carefully and pointed at what had been under it.
“Do you know what that is?”
I saw a very old-looking piece of rope with a knot in it.
“Looks like a very old piece of rope with a knot in it!”
“John… This is –how do you call it—a curse.”
“A curse?”
“Yes, the knot represents a spell and it was hidden in a place like this so the victim couldn’t come and untie it.”
Well, here was a whole new use for caves I knew nothing at all about! Anyhow, after a short reflection, Mahmoud uttered a short prayer and carefully untied the knot. I hope that gave some relief to someone somewhere, but if the rope was as old as the boomerangs we’d found, Mahmoud may have undone one of the longest-lasting curses in history.
(You'll find the book "Underground in Arabia" at Amazon)
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