BY CHUCK CHRISTMAN
Executing a rescue from an abandoned mine, be it a vertical shaft or portal entry mine, can be more hazardous than it would seem at first glance. The unique aspects of the underground environment and a lack of knowledge of the specialized rescue techniques put an untrained rescuer at great risk.
Some of the dangers encountered in abandoned mines include toxic gases or low oxygen levels, rotten timbering or no ground support at all, unseen dry-rot in bulkheads, invisible vertical shafts to lower levels, poisonous insects or snakes, frightened animals, illegally discarded haz-mat waste, and old explosives. Generally, there are no maps to guide the rescuers, and the usual confined space rescue techniques, such as rappelling, become hazards in themselves. Conventional light sources (e.g., those that are not intrinsically safe) can cause blasts in explosive atmospheres that sometimes exist in abandoned mines, and the rescuers can find themselves stumbling around in a dark maze.
BIKER FALLS INTO MINE
On Memorial Day 2002, at about 1345 hours, a boy, riding his dirt bike in the desert with a family friend, had ridden up on what appeared to be a flat spot for a rest stop and a drink of water. The front wheel of his motorcycle had slipped over a hard-to-see, eroded lip of an abandoned vertical mine shaft. As he tried to steer away from the hole, he was thrown over the handlebars to the side and hit on some old weathered mine wood. The boy crashed through the rotted wood and fell down the shaft, bouncing off its walls, getting hit with loosened debris from the top, and finally landing on a timber across the shaft at what was thought to be about 150 to 200 feet down the shaft. The shaft diameter was approximately 10 ragged feet and, had he not landed on the timber, he would have fallen another 200 feet. The other biker, a family friend, was wondering where his partner had gone. He then saw the dirt bike hanging on some mine timbers and a piece of pipe jutting out from the side of the shaft. He alerted family and friends at the camp, and they called 9-1-1 on a cell phone.
RESPONDING TO THE CALL
At 1430 hours on May 26, the Indian Wells Valley Mine Rescue Team (IWMRT) and the Kern County (CA) Fire Department (KCFD) were dispatched to a remote desert area where a motorcyclist had fallen into an abandoned vertical mine shaft. Responding from home, I arrived at the scene after 45 minutes to find that a number of firefighters and law enforcement officers had started to secure the area.
KCFD Battalion Chief Brent Moon recognized me as a mine rescue and safety instructor and also as a member of the IWMRT. He said, “About 10 years ago, I took your mine rescue safety and operations course, and I remember what you said about abandoned mine hazards. What do you want us to do?”
We established unified command and assessed the situation. A primary concern was preventing additional casualties and actions that might worsen the victim’s predicament. Working with the Highway Patrol, the Kern County Sheriff’s Department, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), and a truck company from KCFD from remote Station Area 75 (from Randsburg, a historic California mining town), we established an exclusion zone to prevent rocks and debris from being dislodged and further injuring the victim below. I also asked that some vehicles be moved so that the IWMRT’s rescue equipment truck could get in close enough but still be safe from loose soil. The IWMRT, responding from Ridgecrest-China Lake more than 40 highway miles and six dirt-road miles, was 45 minutes away.
While we waited for the arrival of the team and its specialized rescue equipment, I located the reporting party and learned that the motorcyclist in the shaft was a 10-year-old boy, who, with his family and their friends, had been taking advantage of the long holiday weekend. They had come from Southern California to the upper Mojave Desert to camp, enjoy the vast outdoors, and ride their dirt bikes and motorcycles across the desert.
THE RESCUE PLAN
The KCFD arrived on the scene with officers of the Highway Patrol and Sheriff’s Department and the BLM (the abandoned mine was on land administered by that agency). As one of the law enforcement personnel was preparing to rappel into the mine to rescue the boy, Captain John King (Operations) from the KCFD truck company stopped him. He explained that over-the-side rappelling might kill him and the boy, because as a rappeller descends an old shaft, the rope is cutting into the edge of the shaft, dislodging rocks and debris that could fall on anything below. In addition, as the rappeller bangs against the sides of the shaft, even more debris is dislodged. If the top of the shaft happens to be undercut (concave), what might look safe on the surface could be unstable, because it could be only a few inches thick and, therefore, dangerous. A live victim could easily be killed because of a rock fall started by the rappeller, and the rappeller himself might become a victim (A two-pound rock will crack a coconut shell from a five-foot fall!)
Another consideration is that very few people, other than cavers, have the special gear, training, and the upper body strength to ascend from any significant depth.
It was agreed to hold up on the rappel because it might worsen the situation. We began to stabilize the scene until the IWMRT arrived.
Using extreme caution, a Kern County firefighter and a Sheriff’s deputy were assigned to lie on their stomachs at the edge of the hole (they were secured on the downwind side, as a 25-knot wind and lots of dust were present) to make voice communication with the boy to assess him for possible injuries and let him know he was not alone (and also to cover his head because debris might fall as the rescuer worked his way down). It was determined that the boy had been wearing all sorts of protective gear and that, even though he had lost his helmet during the fall, there were no signs or symptoms of serious injuries.
When the other members of the IWMRT arrived, the team members were directed to erect their portable rescue hoist; firefighters and officers assisted with this task. A professional engineer had designed this unique portable hoist specifically for the IWMRT. The hoist, used only for rescue, has a two-person crank drum with 900 feet of 1/2-inch static kernmantle rope and cantilevered center positioning. Typically, the hoist is set up approximately 10 feet from the edge of the shaft, where there is little danger of cave-in, and the rescuer will be cantilevered out so he can be lowered over the center of the shaft. The rescuer and hoist operators have sound-powered headset radios; there are two additional setups for additional rescuers down the hole, if necessary.
 (1) The 10-year-old boy fell through the rotted wood and down the abandoned vertical mine. (Photos by author.) |
null
 (2) Rescuer Sean Halpin cautiously works his way down the shaft. |
null
 (3) Halpin and the victim are hoisted out of the mine. Note the tied-off motorcycle. |
null
 (4) The victim is packaged for transport to the hospital, where he was kept 24 hours for observation and then released. |
null
RESCUER ENTERS MINE
Team Captain Sean Halpin was designated the primary rescuer. As soon as the hoist was ready and all personnel were in place, he was harnessed up and equipped to enter the mine. At 1600 hours, the hoist swung Halpin, equipped with a four-gas gas-detector and an intrinsically safe head lamp, over the eroded edge of the shaft. Careful not to touch anything that could fall, Halpin secured the motorcycle with webbing and a rope anchored to a vehicle on the surface. Halpin was then slowly lowered down the shaft so that he could work his way through and around the rotted wood and jutting pipes that the boy had bounced through on his way down.
When Halpin reached the boy, we realized that he had fallen nearly 200 feet. After conferring with the paramedic at the surface, Halpin decided to use a “hasty” harness for the extrication. At about 1730 hours, two team members, turning the hoist’s crank, raised Halpin and the boy, harnessed together, out of the shaft. Once clear of the portal, the rig was tilted back away from the hole, swinging Halpin and the boy back over solid ground. They were lowered to earth and released from the hoist.
Paramedics checked the boy and determined that, aside from bruises, he appeared to be unhurt. The family agreed that everybody’s prayers had been answered. A waiting helicopter flew the boy to Loma Linda Hospital in Redlands, California, where he was held for 24-hour observation and released.
This boy was one of the lucky ones. I am convinced that the boy is alive (and riding his dirt bike again) because Battalion Chief Moon and Captain King of the KCFD took the correct actions at the beginning of the operation, to allow the underground rescue specialists to arrive at the scene and start to work in a safe and controlled operation using basic concepts of mine rescue. I also think that the incident command system (and especially unified command) worked to effect a smooth operation. Even though four agencies—federal, state, county, and volunteer—were at the scene, there were no problems. This is the essence of unified command.
Speaking as a mine safety and rescue instructor and as a member of an active mine rescue team, I commend all the responders for their efforts and say “Hats off” to the Kern County Fire Department and Indian Wells Valley Volunteer Search and Rescue Team for a job well done. n
CHUCK CHRISTMAN is a certified Federal Mine Safety Health Admin-istration (MSHA) underground safety and rescue instructor. He served on the FEMA Standards Committee for Urban Search and Rescue. He has been a member of and instructor on the Kern County (CA) Sheriff’s Volunteer Underground Rescue Team for 19 years (Indian Wells Valley SAR). He is an EMT, holds all of California’s OSHA’s mining and tunneling safety certificates, and has worked as a safety consultant on numerous high-risk tunnel, dam, and mine projects. A former underground miner, he has served on working mine rescue teams. He has conducted training sessions for the Los Angeles County USAR teams and the Honolulu (HI) Fire Department.
THE ONLY SAFE MINE IS THE ONE YOU’RE NOT IN
BY CHUCK CHRISTMAN
An abandoned mine rescue is really a hybrid confined space rescue, with the inherent problems of tight areas coupled with the dangers of the unknown and many years of nature trying to reclaim itself.
Unlike caves, which are formed by nature and, therefore, relatively structurally sound, underground mines are trying to close themselves up from the moment they are opened up by man. Timbering or other manmade devices to support the roof, artificial ventilation sources, and additional lighting added by miners many years ago are abandoned when the ore runs out. In most cases, the rescuer does not know if the timbering has suffered from dry rot; if cave-ins or moisture have affected the flow of air or created toxic gases that necessitate the use of four-hour oxygen rebreathers; or if there are multiple levels, tunnels, and unseen ore chutes in which to fall. The rescuer must assume that any mine map, if one is available, is very out of date.
Sometimes a rescuer has to search several thousand feet (or even many miles), under a rebreather, before he can even start a rescue. He may encounter water, pockets of toxic gas such as hydrogen sulfide, unexploded dynamite, or methane. Because of the lack of maps, a rescuer does not know what dangers he will face in an abandoned mine until he is in it; that’s why specialized training and knowledge are needed.
In abandoned mine rescues, the technical rope skills used are similar to those used in over-the-side rescues. However, the rescuer often has to make his own anchors on the spot and always has to worry about dislodging rocks that might fall on the victim. From the time the rescuer enters the mine, he has to monitor the air for oxygen levels and toxic gases. The only available light is on his helmet, and the floor beneath his feet can give out at any time. The pace must always be very slow, as the rescuer is constantly checking the floor for unseen cave-ins and the overhead for low-hanging obstacles or loose rocks. The rescuer, who is often laying heavy wire for communication to the outside, must be careful not to obliterate footprints or other evidence on the floor.
To my knowledge, in the United States there are only a couple of trained abandoned mine rescue teams that have skills up to the standards to comply with FED-OSHA. MSHA-trained mine rescue teams deal with working mines, and their training does not cover the hazards of abandoned mines. The abandoned mine rescuers I know are mostly former miners working with rural volunteer fire departments.
A final thought, to quote a cave rescuer I know: “The only similarities between a mine and a cave are that they’re both dark and they both have four letters.”
