Peacock Springs

We were the first ones in the parking lot - well, after the mosquitoes. It is buggy at Peacock. Thankfully, we had anti-insect incense. Soon enough, we were in the water and shielded from the biting terrestrial invertebrates. 

The entrance to Peacock is the worst part of the whole cave. You either have to go head-first straight down or turn sideways and pull yourself across the rocks with your hands. I opted for the latter. I could hear my spare tanks clink against the limestone and feel the pressure increase in my ears as I descended. After about a minute, I reached the flat, rocky floor and re-joined my buddies near the sign. 

This sign appears at the entrance to every submerged cave in 
Florida to discourage untrained divers from entering the cave.

The same sign is mounted at the entrance to every submerged cave in Florida, and it's purposefully dramatic. I can't imagine why someone without cave training would ever wriggle their way down here, but apparently some do. For those of us with the proper training, the sign marks the official start of the cave. We followed the thick, gold guideline past the warnings of certain death, turned on our lights, and headed into Peacock Springs. 

The tunnel is wide - huge by cave standards. The floor is a fine, brown silt, and the walls and ceiling are limestone. I checked my buoyancy to make sure I didn't disturb any of the sediment as I swam. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred feet in - a plastic yellow arrow was woven into the guideline at each point to mark the distance and remind us which way to the exit. 

I could feel that we were getting shallower. My instructor pointed his light upward to direct my attention. We had reached Olsen Sink, an alternate exit from the cave. After swimming up the slope, we came right back down onto the gold line. This verified opening was now our nearest exit from the cave. 

Past Olsen, we reached two restrictions. Again, by cave standards, these were huge. My instructor called them "duck-unders." I waited for him to go through, then flattened my body and pushed with my feet under the archway. I wasn't sure how much of the sand I had stirred up, but I was through. My husband followed behind me. We each made circle motions with our lights to verify we were ok, then turned to continue swimming. 

Diver Kirstin looks like a seal! 
Photo by Carl Kaiser.

I could tell we were in the second half of our circuit, because what little current there was now pushed me from behind. Another couple hundred feet, and the limestone was starting to tighten around me. I had been warned about this - the Peanut Tunnel was tight. I watched my instructor ahead of me to learn the tricks. He ducked his head, pulled with his hands, and barely moved his feet. I did the same, and so did my husband behind me. 

There was a pressure differential in my ears again, but this time it was the reverse - gas emptied out of my eustachian tubes, like I was gaining altitude in a plane. I relished the feeling. I could see ambient light creeping into the tunnel ahead of me. The exit from the cave was much easier than the entrance. This time, I could go head-up from the sign and emerge into the blue-green light of the basin above me. It was a great dive at Peacock Springs.