A cautionary tale of perceived safety.
In May of 1998 David Chester, an experienced 30 year old British rock climber was killed when he fell around thirty metres from a stance half-way up Le Belleric, Orpierre in France - one of the best equipped and most user-friendly sport climbing crags in Europe.
Following an investigation by French police officers (one of whom was a mountain guide), and further enquiries in this country a coroners inquest was held in Huddersfield close to David’s parents home town. Several witnesses gave evidence but the exact reason for David’s plummet to earth could not be established with absolute certainty. The coroner recorded a verdict of misadventure but the circumstances leading to the fatal fall are worthy of publication if only to serve as a reminder to us all that climbing is an unforgiving sport and that serious accidents can happen in what we may think are the safest of environments.
The accident happened on the third day of a holiday organised by a group of 8 climbers of differing abilities and experience all based in Aberdeen. On the afternoon of the tragedy David was leading a route called Violence and Passion (F6a). His belayer was long time friend Bill Stephenson and also present at the foot of the climb, David’s girlfriend Shelley Farrar.
David was the most experienced sports climber within this group. Bill, who described himself as more of a mountaineer, had some previous sport climbing experience and had climbed on similar routes with David in Spain the year before. Shelley was relatively in-experienced and this holiday was her first taste of bolt-protected limestone. Both David and Bill were well capable of leading a route of this standard.
During the preceding two days David had climbed with both Shelley and Bill on several routes, some single and some multi pitch, and perhaps significantly, on some multi-pitch routes he had lowered off from the first stance (which is not an uncommon practice). On another longer route he had abseiled from the second stance. The team were all climbing with doubled 50m ropes. Both Bill and Shelley described David as being very safety conscious and Shelley, in particular, told me that David had been very specific with her about the methods of rope work he was employing and that he was a patient teacher. Bill admitted that he felt less confident than David and that when climbing together David always appeared comfortable and relaxed. Both gave evidence to the inquest that David would invariably check that the belayer was ready before he lowered off, but neither could remember any specific form of words he would use.
On the day of the accident David had done several easier routes with Shelley whilst Bill had been climbing elsewhere on the cliff with another team. Around 4pm Bill walked across to speak to David and Shelley which gave Shelley the opportunity to have a refreshment break and David co-opted Bill to hold his rope on a slightly harder route. Bill didn’t know anything about the climb other than its name and grade but David indicated the general line and Bill could see a stance and chain a little over half way up the face. There was no communication between the friends as to whether it was a one or two pitch route or as to how they would climb it or descend but David simply set off with Bill belaying using a friction plate device. Whilst belaying Bill was chatting to Shelley and David had no apparent difficulty with the technicalities of the climb.
He shouted down once for directions where the bolt line divided and Shelley consulted the guidebook to clarify his route. As he got near to the stance Bill noticed that the half-way mark on the ropes had passed through his plate and once on the stance Bill estimated that David was around 28 metres above the ground.
Exactly what David shouted on reaching the stance is not certain. Both Bill and Shelley believe he only shouted the word “Okay”, or something along the lines of “That’s it, its done”. But a Frenchman climbing nearby made a statement which, when translated, read …. “I think the climber had finished the climb and that he said he was anchored (secured, fixed to the cliff face) and that he said to his belayer he was safe”. Despite the length of the pitch there was no obstruction to the line of vision between climber and belay and no significant wind or road noise to obscure verbal communication.
Bill was aware that David was leaning back from the stance but that no tension was transmitted to his belay and he assumed that David had tied, or clipped himself, onto the fixed equipment. He assumed that David would, therefore, be preparing to bring him up to lead through on the second pitch, or be arranging to tie off the ropes to abseil, being more than 25 metres up the cliff. Either way he believed he would be climbing the pitch next and so took off his belay device to go and put on his rock boots which were in his sack a few metres away. Moments later he heard a scream and turned to see David falling. He made a grab for the ends of the rope but couldn’t hold them and David hit the ground head first and was killed instantly.
Undoubtedly there had been a serious lack of communication between the two climbers and each, apparently made assumptions about the intentions and understanding of the other. Shelley had assumed all the time that David would be lowering off after the first pitch. What she knew, but Bill didn’t, was that although the pitch was a little over 25 metres long David had descended from a similar height on their two previous climbs (just to the left). The first few metres of rock at the base of the crag was an easy angled slab and, with the stretch in the rope and by landing on the slab, the ropes were just long enough to reach safety.
The report from the French police indicated that there was no failure of the belay bolts or chain and that David’s ropes were clipped independently through two separate anchors. Poor quality photographs which accompanied the report did not, however, show clearly whether David had left any other equipment on the belay and no one appears to have checked or made a note of whether any knots or quick-draws were tied or clipped through his harness which may have given a clue as to whether he was tied on to the belay at some stage.
As the advisor to the coroner in this case I was asked to clarify several technical points and give my opinion as to the most likely intention of David Chester when he reached the stance. I was also asked whether there were any accepted conventions regarding the respective responsibilities of the climbers in terms of communication and/or actions when climbing in such circumstances.
I had to explain that although the French police report concluded that David had intended to lower off but failed to communicate that to his second, I felt that the available evidence didn’t justify such a conclusion with absolute certainty. Though his friends thought it unlikely, David could have made a mistake in either tying or adjusting his belay. There was no evidence at all that he shouted his intention to lower off, unless the “Okay” heard by Shelley and Bill was a question as to Bill’s readiness. If it was he certainly didn’t wait for confirmation before leaning back and letting go - as most of us probably think we would?
I also explained that the long accepted convention of calls between leader and second in most traditional British climbing situations didn’t readily translate to sport climbing but that it was usual for the leader, being the person in the most vulnerable position, to communicate his intentions clearly and to double check by calls of “Have you got me” and “Take in tight” (or similar phrases) before letting go. I am sure we all believe we also make a visible check if this is possible as well.
I also explained to the coroner that the belayer should never disconnect his belay until he is sure his leader is safe but, although one would normally expect the second to verbally seek confirmation from the leader in this regard, there was no absolute convention that was universally adopted. In this case Bill was sure David was safe but will always, I’m sure, regret that he didn’t make that extra shout to check.
It is not the duty of the Coroner to apportion blame during an inquest and Mr Whittaker did not do so in this case. He did however accept that poor communication was a critical factor in the tragedy. I received full support, co-operation and honesty from the climbers and witnesses I spoke to during my investigation and feel that rather than recriminate about what should or could have been done differently we should all reflect on what we ourselves do in these relatively relaxed and apparently non-threatening holiday-rock situations.
If knowledge of this incident can prevent a similar tragedy in the future then it may be of some small comfort to the family and friends of David Chester.
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