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I suffered my closest call ever boating yesterday; just about as close as you can get, really. It's actually a little embarrassing to me to relate the story, but if anyone benefits from the tale, it'll be well worth it.
It started out as the perfect sunny day, on the perfect run (Little White Salmon, WA), perfect water level (3.6'), and with an awesome group. There were six paddlers, which was larger than the ideal size on such a busy run, so we were very careful to manage the eddies well and keep an eye out for everyone. There weren't any issues at all for most of the run, and everyone seemed quite comfortable on the rapids.
I'd done the Little White once before, last July, when levels were too low for Stovepipe or Spirit Falls. This time, I was fairly eager to "finish" the run, and Stovepipe went clean. When we got to Spirit (30' drop into a boily pool), we all got out to scout, and two of us decided to run it. The first boater ran the drop, and there was a bit of a delay while I waited in the eddy for the signal to go. (I later heard that he ended up behind the curtain on river left, but was able to paddle out, and then make the line around the bend to the left at Chaos.) My approach was good, but I pencilled in and got peeled back over the back deck and had my paddle ripped out of my hands. I've run a lot of drops around 20', and this isn't usually an issue, but my landing position obviously wasn't good. I ended up hands-rolling up under the curtain, where there's a fairly decent-sized pool.
I couldn't find my paddle behind the curtain, but I did spot another paddle shaft wedged in with some other wood. I yanked it free but it didn't have any blades. I tried to hands-paddle out through the curtain but got rejected a couple of times, until I located a spot where I could push off some rocks to get through. Once I got out into the pool, I found there was quite a bit of push through to the next rapid, Chaos. I knew that I needed to get left around the corner, and my approach seemed good, but I wasn't able to hands-paddle hard enough to the left to keep from being pulled backwards over the drop and into the hole. I had been told that you really didn't want to be there, and remember thinking "Oh, no, I'm hosed!" Sure enough, this is where it got ugly. I got flipped immediately, and tried to hands-roll several times, but could tell that the boat was just spinning around with each attempt and I wasn't getting any purchase on the aerated water. I wasn't even able to get a breath, and after taking in some water, decided to punch out. Unfortunately, I was wearing some neoprene windsurfing mitts, which work great for paddling, but not so hot for finding your grab loop. After failing to find the loop, I tried to hands-roll a couple more times, then tried again for the loop, then the side of the rim, then tried to pull out through the tunnel. No luck.
The next thing I remember was briefly being in a sort of dream-like state, then having no idea where I was but lying on the bank and hacking up a lot of water. I had passed out under water, in my boat, and was very fortunate that there were a couple of guys from another group already on the river-right bank near the hole, and that others of my group were able to get there quickly. It probably took at least three people to get me up and out of the boat, and I started breathing again by myself just before they were going to start CPR.
At least one boater was sent to the takeout to call 911 while I was still in the water, but I was able to get moving after a few minutes and climb and walk out with the help of my buddies. We were met my the Rescue Squad a ways before getting to the paved road, and I was able to convince them to let me walk the rest of the way up rather than having them carry me. My lungs actually didn't feel that bad, but I did get quite cold (body temp under 94 degrees, they said). The ambulance took me back to the Hood River Hospital, and they kept me overnight for observation.
I learned a couple of new lessons here, and re-learned a couple:
* Like many of these incidents, you tend to hear a lot more stories about the history of a particular drop afterwards than before. Chaos is a really bad spot; lots of rivers have them. It's a good idea to be educated.
* If the most experienced boater in your group decides to walk a drop, he probably has good reason, however much of a bad-ass you feel like you are that day. The rapid will always be there, you may not. Not only for yourself, just the possibility of putting your buddies through one of these incidents ain't cool.
* A 30' drop is quite a bit harder to keep all your shit together on than 20'ers. A clean runout is nice to have. (Could you swim it if you had to?)
* Even if you haven't had to punch out in more than a couple of years, it is a possibility. I never considered that the mittens would make it so difficult (I've only been using them for a few weeks). A small ball or biner or something on the loop might've made all the difference, although it still would've been a really bad place to swim. Gloves probably would've been fine, too.
* We were pretty lucky that it stayed fairly warm, and I was able to get out quickly. We didn't start the run until about 1:30pm, which is plenty of time if everything goes well, as it had been until that point. If I hadn't been able to get out fairly quickly under my own power (I'm over 200 lbs with gear), it would've gotten much colder. In fact it was in the upper 50's during the day, but 20's over night.
Well, I'm definitely glad to be here to paddle another day, and I hope this story gives you something to think about. Paddle smart, paddle safe.
David Mackintosh |
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Near-drowning on the Little White Salmon New 
BoaterTalk 
