Caves have always had an aura of spookiness and mystery. They attract people who enjoy the thrill of being underground, surrounded by strange shapes and an element of danger, like some subterranean carnival ride. But for others, they are dark, enclosed, unpredictable places that evoke secret fears.


I am one of the latter and feel a bit like the girls in the film Picnic at Hanging Rock as we wander through the dappled shade of the oddly named 'dry rainforest' towards the entrance of the Capricorn Caves, just north of Rockhampton.

"Caves intrigue people," says Ann Augusteyn, whose family owns and operates this unusual natural attraction, and she's right, because I'm compelled to see this place despite an instinctive reluctance.

Our guide gives us the good news that the caves are actually above ground, lying within a massive ridge of limestone that rises from what was once sea bed.

"You'll find that there is none of the damp, musty atmosphere that you get in underground caves," he promises, reassuringly.

The entrance to the cave complex is a vast and very operatic-looking canyon of rock, draped in fig tree roots and vines, which our guide explains is actually a collapsed cave. This is less reassuring, but once inside the dreaded enclosed space, I find it is quite, well, cavernous, with plenty of light and air, and my fears recede a little.

Passages are well-lit, bridges over chasms are sturdy, and the variety of shapes, shades and surfaces in the caves are so interesting that fear soon vanishes. Guides are well-trained in both the history of the caves and their geology and biology and soon the strangeness of wandering around under a pile of rock disappears as well.

There are many ways to explore the caves, from the sedate one-hour Cathedral Tour to a two-hour adventure in wild caving and there are any number of educational programs on offer for school groups to special interest groups, covering areas such as the ecology of the caves and the dry rainforest, geology, heritage, fine arts and ecotourism.

It seems that no cave system would be complete without a large room called 'The Cathedral', but this Cathedral, while beautiful, is more like a graceful old country church with its vaulted ceilings, pale creamy walls, rows of pews and simple iron candleabra. Soft hidden lights play over natural features like dripstones resembling organ pipes and, from the ceiling, there falls a long fig tree root that looks rather like a bell rope. It's taken 20 years to grow down here from a tree 50m above us.

I try not to think of the 50m of rock over my head as the guide plays a recording of Amazing Grace to demonstrate the wonderful acoustics in the room, while slowly extinguishing the soft, reassuring lights. The effect is powerful, but not so pleasant for a claustrophobe like myself when the last light goes out and one is actually plunged into utter blackness, despite the inspiring choice of music.

The room is used for weddings, complete with red carpet, candles and flowers, and a special Christmas Carol service is held here very year which benefits Access Recreation, an organisation which seeks to improve disabled access to tourist attractions. The Augusteyns have made sure that the main caves are open for wheelchairs and actually have two chairs on hand for people who aren't up to the walk.

For those who are not disabled (either physically or by sheer crawling fear) there is a special treat - adventure caving. Cave helmets are provided, but bring a torch and very old clothes, if you have a yen to crawl into parts of the caves with names like, Fat Man's Misery, The S-bend, Thin Man's Misery, The Guillotine, The Laundry Chute, and the one which makes me take a very deep breath, The Rebirthing Tunnel. You can also climb inside The Devil's Coach House which is a rock climb on a steep rock face above a bed of pointy piercing rocks that you don't want to fall on.

I am unwilling to do more than watch people disappearing into these unspeakable places, but, Ann was right; caves do intrigue people and despite my bad moment in The Cathedral, I feel intrigued enough to face the challenge of The Deep Vault. While the entrance is just a crack in the rock that doesn't look big enough for a wallaby, it turns out to be big enough for a full size human like myself, so I take the plunge and venture in. First just my head, and then the rest of me when I see that inside is a large space, like an anteroom. From here you can climb onto a platform that looks down over a large cave with some wonderful decorations and interesting corridors leading off into the darkness.

The decorations are bits of accumulated limestone which have literally flowed through the rock and formed interesting shapes as they dry. There are many names for these and a much more scientific explanation, but for the casual visitor, it's fun to describe what they look like.

Amazingly, my interest has overcome the fear. I am actually finding these horror holes interesting. Our guide explains that since the cave is warm and airy, not cold and damp, it's a great acclimatisation cave. This is where the male bats hang out while the females are busy giving birth and rearing the young.

"Shouldn't they call it The Pub?" I ask. Now I'm making jokes instead of making for the exit. These caves are great, I conclude, for facing all sorts of fears, low ceilings, enclosed places, the dark, small spaces, bats, heights, the lot. Luckily, I am not afraid of bats and these Little Bent-Wings and Ghost Bats are so tiny, rare and endangered that it's a treat to see them, flitting occasionally through the tops of caves as we pass, especially in the belfry of The Cathedral.

These caves are also a great way to learn about a highly specialised and fragile ecosystem. Once they were a chance to experience an offbeat thrill and visitors were actually encouraged to break off bits of interesting dripstone to take home as souvenirs. Now guides are strict about not allowing anyone to even touch the cave walls, lights are only turned on when tours come through, and many parts of the caves are off limits in order to protect the bats who live there.

And happily, the Augusteyns have avoided the once-popular fashion for filling caves with plywood cut-outs of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and obscuring their natural beauty with lots of hideous coloured lights. We are not here to be entertained by cheap tricks; we are here to be educated about the place of caves in the bush ecosystem.

The Augusteyns take very seriously their responsibility for the well-being of this patch of bush with its spectacular centrepiece. The big holes in the ground have come of age and are no longer the sideshow alley of nature, but natural phenomena, interesting for both their beauty and their part in the ecosystem. The Capricorn Caves have been given EcoCertification.