Cheddar The Flood A Personal View

image above: The entrance to Cheddar Caves up to four feet deep.

It was 10^th July 1968 I had been at college all day, it had been a warm thundery day and it had been raining particularly hard since around mid day. I drove over to Cheddar early that evening in my little mini car, to meet the members of our blues band. We were resident band at the Cliff Hotel in Cheddar Gorge, and we were allowed to keep our equipment on the stage, and allowed to practice once of twice a week. We played every Friday, in those days the Gorge was a centre for groups, with the Caveman, further up the Gorge on the first floor above the entrance of Gough's Cave. A lot of bands from the Cheddar venues and Glastonbury Town hall formed the back drop for the later Glastonbury Festival.

image above: Cheddar Gorge - Thursday morning after the great storm.

We had not been in the hall, which is now a row of shops next to Coxes Mill, which is today's name of the Cliff Hotel, for more than an hour when the thunder and lightening started, and very soon the power supply went off, so that was the end of the group practice for the night. We all decided to return to Axbridge, to continue on acoustic guitars in the group room, to allow the storm to pass, in the big house of our lead guitarist and singer. This was a short journey, normally lasting about ten minutes, but that night we travelled in convoy in the central of the road, as the rain was so hard the road was awash, as our windscreen wiper's could not cope.

We had all grown up with the ‘Electric Storms Rattling a round The Mendip Hills,' so why should this night be any different. But instead of going away, the storm became more intense, I had never seen such lightening, the night sky was bright green with the lightening. Suddenly there was a terrific sound like an explosion, and the electricity in the house in Axbridge went out, it had been the substation taking a direct lightening hit in the garden. It was only then that we started to realise that this was no ordinary storm, and we decided that we would try to make our ways back to our homes, as it was not far for any of us on a normal night. I was particularly worried as I knew my mother was alone that night, as my father was working away, and where we lived was near a stream at the bottom of the Mendip hill, which often caused some local flooding.

I set out in my little mini, into the square, and up the main street, the water running down the street against me, I arrived at the top and the new roundabout with the underpass, but my way was blocked by a land slide, I managed to get around, by going around the wrong way, I was so relieved to eventually reaching the main A38, I was half way home, I had decided to go the long way round avoiding the hill, but I had not gone far when I was stopped by a man waving me down, and stationary cars. I was told I could go no further on the main road as the road had been washed away, so I managed to turn around, and went back to the turning to take me down the hill. The first part of the small road was OK, I could remember feeling relieved. It was not until I reached the top of the hill, and began the descent, that torrents of water were pouring out of every gap, pathway and even over the tops of gates, I was being swept down the hill, by a massive wall of water, I could here the stones and parts of trees and debris banging the rear and underneath of my little car. Half way down the hill is a small square, with a small side lane running around the back orchards and linking up with the lane to my home, So I somehow, I do not know how, I like to think, looking back, it was some divine intervention, managed to turn off and away from the wave of water. I was terrified by then, but determined to get back home to make sure my mother was alright. All went well until I reached the lane to turn to make the last part of the way back, but I was stopped by the local farmer who told me I could not go any further, as the water was too deep and the firemen were trying to get someone trapped in their car. He allowed me to leave my car in his farm yard, and I started my way back by foot, firstly along the tops of the banks of the road holding on to the hedge as I went along, with the bright green sky, the lightening come right down to the flood water. The further I went the deeper the water, and the stronger the current, suddenly there was a loud sound of cracking and snapping wood, and the water level fell and I was been dragged across the lane, A farm gate, which must have been blocked by the debris, had given way and the flow was being carried out into the fields. By carefully picking my way round and holding on for my life to the far hedge, with water up to my waste, I managed to get past the gateway and the fast flowing river, I continued to cling the hedge  pulling myself against the tide, for those last full yards, and grabbing the ridge of the wall outside my house I pulled my self over the wall and jumped in the calmer water in our front garden. I was finally home, I waded up the path and up to the backdoor, the water, was just spilling into the kitchen floor, my mother had put an old draught excluder and some old rugs rolled up to keep the water back with two candles and a floor mop. We were so pleased to see each other, she had been very worried about me as I had been so worried about her. The Farm gate that had given way had stemmed the height of the flood water, so we were lucky, it had fallen  a little, so our home was not flooded.

I can remember falling asleep immediately I had changed into some dry clothes I was exhausted. The next thing I can remember was a builder friend was banging at the back door it was just after 7am, and I had gone to sleep in my clothes in the chair in the hall. My mother was up and preparing some breakfast, she let my friend in, and he waited a while I quickly drunk my mug of tea and grabbed some toast. It was only then that I was to hear how a large walled section along the A38 had formed a huge dam, and had given way and a huge tide of water had ripped of the backs of some of the cottages in the path, and how it had swept down and through the new housing estate, and we were going to go down with others to help clear the roadways, and help some of the people who needed help. The scene was of total devastation it had wrecked the downstairs of every house and many cars, fortunately there were only minor injuries, which had been dealt with in the night by the emergency services, who had risked ‘life and limb' to bring us through the night, as everybody had been in bed upstairs when the wave hit. That Morning everybody was in total shock, there was an eerie silence, I don't think I heard one person even speak of the loss of their furniture or the damage to their cars, everybody was pleased to have survived that night.

The bumpy ground is from the flood of 1968,when the former roadway replaced by the one in the picture, was washed away along with tons of spoil the length of the gorge. 

It was later that day that the power and the telephones was restored, and the full scale of the seven deaths, injuries and somany near escapes, along with the widespread devastation in such a large area was shown on the local news. It was when the news showed the Gorge and the cars buried up to their roofs with rubble which had come all the way down the Gorge from Velvet Bottom where the roadway and a huge amounts of spoil had been washed in waves the length of the Gorge and up to four feet into the caves'

It was 2 days before we could get in to find our waterlogged equipment, we were so fortunate, and the hall and the equipment were insured. I don't think any body will never forget that night,  The following day we were sent to Congresbury where we spent a week digging our the mud and waste which had reached ceiling height in some of the shops, in particular the grocery shop. I spent the rest of my summer holidays working at rebuilding all the walls and buildings destroyed that night. The worst job by far was to dig out all the fresh water tanks that had been filled be sewage and mud, we got used to the smell, it was ‘eating the sandwiches at lunchtime that was the worst.'

When I see the floods in our own country and in the countries of the poor people in the world, it brings back memories of the terrible fear instilled in anyone involved, if you have not lived it you cannot know the fear the power of nature can instil at the time, and the lasting memory it leaves.

I am including another first hand experience from 'Head Rambles' and thank him for his interesting article'

In 1968, I was a student in Dublin, and obtained a job in the ‘Cave Man' in Cheddar for the summer. The ‘Cave Man' was a restaurant/snack bar/lounge/bar complex. I travelled there on my motorbike [a Yamaha 80cc].

On arrival I was assigned the job of running the Snack Bar at the exit to the Gough Caves [it is the first floor block in the photo below - Pic 11].

There were a few Irish there that summer, and one of them [Peter Pilkington] features in the story.

July 10th, 1968

On the morning of the 10th, it was a hot and heavy day. By midday, it started to rain. It was the heaviest rain I have ever seen and within minutes, the pavements were overflowing and the road had become a minor river. As the afternoon progressed, the water on the road became deeper, and stones started to be washed down.

As the ground floor entrance to the Cave Man Bar faced up the Gorge, we became concerned. They were steel doors, and were locked with a bar, but Peter and I decided to try to place an old door across the outside to buffer the rocks that were now being washed down the road. In the attempt, Peter was washed away by a wave and managed to grab a building further down the road and clamber back over the roofs. The attempt to barricade the door was abandoned.

At this stage, large boulders were being washed down from the Gorge and the building was taking quite a battering. The water on the road would have been a couple of feet deep at that stage, and with the slope on the road, it was flowing very swiftly.

I was in the downstairs bar when the steel door finally gave way. I managed to fling myself through the kitchens and I reached the back stairs just as the water arrived.

The Cave Man was bounded on one side by a river, on another by the sheer overhanging cliff and by the road, which was now a raging torrent of mud, boulders and water. We were trapped.

We spent that night in darkness, apart from the lightning hitting the cliffs. That was almost continuous, and was the worst I have seen [and I've seen quite a few lightning storms!]. Downstairs was flooded to a depth of several feet, and there was a constant crash of rocks falling off the cliff onto the roof. Our main concern was for the structure of the building as it was receiving a bad battering. My overriding memory of the night was the noise of the boulders grinding around downstairs, the rocks bouncing off the roof, and of course the constant thunder. It was not a happy night.

By morning, the rain had stopped, and the water had more or less stopped flowing down the Gorge. However, the underground river in Geogh's Cave had overflowed and was pouring out the cave entrance, so we were still surrounded by water, and the ground floor was still several feet deep. We managed to escape by making our way up, over the entrance to the cave and down to the village by clambering over the hillside on the far side of the torrent.

When the cascade had subsided a bit from the cave mouth, Peter and I roped ourselves together and entered the caves [I had quite a bit of caving experience], as there was some concern that people may have been trapped inside. Fortunately, everyone got out in time. We then explored up the Gorge. The devastation was incredible. Huge boulders blocked the road and great swathes of road were entirely missing. As the Cave Man had acted as a buffer for the rest of the village, it sustained the worst damage, but the sheer volume of flooding was incredible.

We thought our summer jobs were over, but we were kept on to work on the clearance. It was hard work, and I'll never forget that smell. My motor bike, incidentally was completely buried under water and rubble. I found it because of the wing mirror sticking up out of a pile. I dug it out, and it worked on the second kick!. That must say something for Japanese motorbike technology of the day.

Note that all photos are original with the exception of the last two, which I ‘borrowed'.

Share and Enjoy.

The following caption comes from Weldgen.tripod.com. and thank them for the large 2 large black and white photographs, their site alsogived details of all the affected areas.

Cheddar Gorge became a river, a raging torrent of mud and rocks. Thousands of tons of rubble were washed down from the cliffs and for almost half a mile the road ceased to exist. At one point the road was ripped up and a hole 30 feet deep scoured out, at others the road disappeared under rocks, mud and rubble.

Numerous shops and houses were flooded as were the world famous caves and the ‘Cave Man' Restaurant where the manager, Mr.Gerald Robertson and eleven of his staff were trapped all night. They managed to climb to safety early on Thursday morning.

On Sunday 14th July, a small army of bulldozers, mechanical diggers and lorries moved into the gorge to commence the major task of moving rubble, filling holes and re-building the road.

RAS