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My
second trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon in
July 1992 was extra special because my two sons, Ben and Matt, were
able to come along. My friend Sam had gotten us an invitation to
the trip.
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It
was a good group of boating companions. Jim, the permit holder,
Sam and Larry had worked together in their youth as smoke jumpers
fighting forest fires. Listening to their stories was fun. If only
half of the stories were true, they’d had some adventures!
And these folks loved good food; the meals were outstanding!
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The
crippled craft
© Clyde Nicely
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We were
having a great time. We stopped at Phantom Ranch for the obligatory
mailing of the postcard and eating of the ice cream. Then
into the Inner Gorge to run Horn Creek Rapid. We camped at
Salt Creek in order to give us a full day to run the rest
of the “biggies” in the Inner Gorge. We had guests
for dinner that evening. Joe and Walt were resting in the
shade when we pulled into camp, waiting for the cool of late
evening to continue their backpack.
An early start the next morning put us into Granite Rapid
right away, then Hermit and Boucher. Fun runs, big water,
exciting. It was with much anticipation that we stopped to
scout Crystal. Its reputation rivaled that of Lava Falls for
difficulty.
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Flows
in the Canyon are often described as “tides”. Water
released from Glen Canyon Dam varies with power demands. In the
summer, as air conditioners in the Southwest start cranking up for
the day, more water goes through the penstocks to spin the generators.
These surges travel downstream and can boost or lower a rapid’s
power.
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Four
years earlier, in June, Crystal had been anticlimactic. We’d
hit it at low flow and running it was a piece of cake. The only
memorable thing about it was Arthur hauling the IK back up to run
it a second time. He managed to dead center the big hole at the
top! He flushed right out but the boat did some spectacular hydrobatics
for the better part of a minute.
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this time Crystal was the raging monster of its legend.
We looked long and hard at it. The left looked nasty
but the right lateral was so strong we feared if we
didn’t break through it, we’d be surfed
sideways into the big upper hole. We elected to run
the tongue to the left of the upper hole. Jim went first
and then Ben, Matt and I followed. We stayed straight
and things went well until a big wave hit us from the
left and blew me right out of the boat. As I surged
past the stern I grabbed the cargo net. Matt looked
back and yelled, “Dad’s out!” Before
Ben had to jump back to take over, I was able to scramble
back to the oars in time to crash through the rest of
the waves and pull to the left of the lower rocks. |
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Draining
water out of the tube
© Clyde Nicely
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We pulled ashore at river right, below where Jim had landed. We
were bailing, laughing and comparing stories when we saw Sam’s
raft approaching us…and Sam was the only one in the boat.
We saw a swimmer upstream of him, in a red PFD, so that had to be
Joyce. Jim, Sylvia and Jan were rescuing her. Where was Larry?
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Drying
out the inside of the tube in preparation for gluing
© Clyde Nicel |
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Sam
pulled in by us with disturbing news. Larry and Joyce had
been flushed out of the raft. She floated away from the
boat but Larry was holding on. When the boat slammed into
the rock wall on river left, Larry was between the boat
and the rock. Sam said, “There was a horrible crunch
and then I didn’t see Larry. I’m afraid he may
have been crushed between the boat and the rock.”
Rial and Jason landed river left below us and started trying
to work their way back upstream along the steep, rocky bank.
As we talked, I became aware of the condition of Sam’s
big Havasu. The right rear chamber was deflated. We tried
to pump it up and found the boat had struck the rock with
such force it had opened a right-angle tear, about 6”
on a side. If Larry was there when it hit…
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We
were a solemn bunch as we watched Rial and Jason’s slow progress.
Sam’s distress was most acute. He and Larry had been friends
for many years. It was a full 45 minutes before we got the high
sign that Larry had been spotted making his way along the shore.
The yellow color of his PFD showed up readily on the water but blended
in with the rocks of the Canyon, delaying spotting him.
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When
we got back together, Larry filled us in on what happened.
When he saw the boat was going to hit the wall, he pushed
himself under the water and let the raft pass over him.
After the collision, when the raft had swirled downstream,
he got to the left bank and started working his way over
the rugged terrain.
With Larry safe and our spirits brightened, we turned to
the problem of Sam’s boat. Tuna Creek Rapid (a 6 on
the 1-10 Grand Canyon scale) was less than a half-mile downstream
and we knew we had to fix it before then.
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Applying
the inside patch, a tricky operation in the best
of conditions
© Clyde Nicely
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We
climbed up the canyon with binoculars to look for a repair spot
and saw what looked like a possibility on river left. Ben and Matt
took our raft across and Sam and I doubled up on the oars to move
the crippled Havasu.
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Preparing
for the outside patch
© Clyde Nicely
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We unloaded
the big boat and got as much water out of the chamber as we
could. Patches inside and out put us back in business. We
were loaded up and back on the water by five. Camps are scarce
in that area, we ended up running another 11 miles and a bunch
of mid-size rapids before we found one. Supper of chop suey
and bread got served in the dark.
No late
songfest or bull session that night, we were ready to hit
the sleeping pads. Quite a day – lots of big whitewater,
excitement and drama…and the longest 45 minutes of my
boating life.
Clyde Nicely
NRS Customer Service &
e-Newsletter Editor |
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