The Ping
You are the only sound down here. Click, and for half a second the dark answers — a wall, a hull, a fish — then forgets you. Read by echo. Move by memory.
SONAR · Survey by echo
The flooded Carreg slate pit, read the way a sonar reads it — one return at a time. In the live page the pit is black until you click; each ping lights it for half a second, then it forgets. Here is what the echoes spell out.
The Shaft
Ninety metres of black water stand in the flooded Carreg slate pit. The winch house went under in 1961. Your first return comes back cold and square-edged: cut stone.
The Adit
The barge Adit lies over on her side against the east wall. When the wavefront crosses her plating she rings like a struck bell — the loudest thing in the pit.
Blind Fish
Something pale holds station in the beam and does not flee. It kept no eyes to lose. It heard you arrive; it will hear you leave.
The Chain
A mooring chain runs past the barge into the silt, each link the size of a forearm, furred with a hundred years of nothing at all.
The Floor
At the bottom the returns come slow and flat. The pit stops here. Ping once more and count how long the silence takes to fill.
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