The air in the drain was thick with the smell of stagnant water and rust.

As we climbed the ladder, a narrow ledge jutted from the graffiti-lined wall, its metal corroded and flaking.

“Fucking shit!”

The group froze, looking down at Nippy. Clinging to the ladder, he gestured to the broken platform beside him.

“I could have died,” he said.

The rusted ledge beneath the urban explorer had given way, and one hand on the ladder was all that stopped him from falling 10 metres to the base of the storm drain.

“Dougo”—his preferred moniker while exploring—has scoured drains for 40 years as a founding member of the urban exploration group, Cave Clan. He said close calls like Nippy’s were rare, but not unprecedented.

“You’ve got to keep your wits about you in places like these,” he said.

For all its subculture and camaraderie, drain exploring is a pursuit that sits outside the law, somewhere between curiosity, risk, and—at times—life or death.

Nowhere is that tension more present than beneath the streets of Melbourne, where a network of stormwater tunnels has drawn adventurers for decades.

The Cave Clan motto is “When it rains, no drains”. One dark moment in their history underscored that danger.

In late 2000, 14-year-old Brian McHugh reached out to Dougo to join Cave Clan.

“I told him he had to wait until he was 18,” Dougo said.

Not long after, Brian entered the drain with a friend, right before a summer downpour.

“I remember thinking, ‘God, I’d hate to be under Northcote Golf Course today,’” Dougo recalled.

The next day, he got a call from Brian’s mother.

“She wasn’t angry—just pleading,” Dougo said. “Thinking he might be alive somewhere.”

“I had to tell her drains aren’t built like that.”

Originally known as Bullen’s Drain, the sprawling network under Northcote was built in the 19th century to channel stormwater from Preston into Merri Creek. The drain became infamous for its noxious stench, the result of dumping from nearby abattoirs and factories.

A 1889 public health order deemed the surrounding land unsuitable for habitation, which led to the gradual covering over of the drain through the 20th century.

It is now part of more than 1,500 kilometres of stormwater tunnels that run beneath Melbourne, a vast hidden network that groups like Cave Clan have spent decades exploring.

Since the 1980s, the drain has served as a meeting point, particularly a section known as “The Pillars,” where explorers would leave messages for each other pre-internet.

“You’d leave a note and hope people would show up,” Dougo said.

It was here that the group held early gatherings—at one point, even a masked dinner party.

As the group grew in membership and notoriety, it featured in news stories, magazines and an ABC documentary.

Dougo said Brian was a fan of the group, seeking out drains around Melbourne to explore by himself.

“He even had the Cave Clan t-shirt,” Dougo said.

The drain has remained a drawcard for explorers and graffiti artists, but the legacy of Brian’s death never quite disappeared for Cave Clan.

“It changed the whole vibe of the space,” Dougo said. “It just seemed darker.”

Claire “Alien” McKenna, one of the first female members of the group, said younger explorers needed to be guided by more experienced “drainers”.

“It’s important to teach the young ones how to do it safely,” Alien said.

She said first-timers often overlooked the basics, like something as simple as bringing a backup torch.

Alien said she was “scared shitless” when she first started exploring the drains and tunnels under Melbourne, but in time she began to know which to explore and which to avoid.

Dave “Prowler” George, a member since 1993, said people were drawn to urban exploring for the adventure it offered, but warned against complacency.

“People underestimate how quickly things can change down here,” he said.

Prowler said he became “hooked” with exploring drains and tunnels across Melbourne and the country, as Cave Clan expanded into different chapters around Australia.

He said the drains were only part of what kept people coming back, lifting his shirt to display a Cave Clan tattoo.

“I’m closer to most people here than my own family,” he said.

On 31 May, Cave Clan and urban explorers from around Victoria gathered at The Pillars to lay a plaque in memory of Brian McHugh, who would have turned 40 this year.

Prowler reflected on Brian’s death and those from the group who had gone through their own personal struggles.

“We come together for one another,” he said.