Accidents, Emergency Workers, and Paddlers
Experienced whitewater paddlers are prepared for trouble, and routinely deal with swims and other minor mishaps on river trips. Mostly it's pretty basic stuff, like helping a swimmer ashore or pulling a boat off a rock. Occasionally there's a long swim or entrapment that's pretty scary. Serious injuries or fatalities requiring outside help are rare, but when help is needed, we go to the phone and dial 911 just like everyone else. This taps into the emergency response system, and the call goes out to the group best able to help out.
Emergency responders belong to a variety of groups. East of the Mississippi a fire department or rescue squad usually responds. Paid professionals are the norm in big cities, but most rural areas are served by volunteers. In the rural west, search and rescue is usually handled by the sheriff. Although many units of the National Park Service have rescue teams on staff, state parks and national forests most often rely on local units. Specialized dive rescue water teams can be affiliated with the State Police, and you will occasionally encounter independent water rescue teams. In Greater Los Angeles, beach lifeguards are tapped for swiftwater rescue teams.
Volunteer rescuers are a noble, big-hearted bunch. They've signed up to leave their work, home, and family at all hours of the day and night to help someone they don't know. They're courageous, can-do people who willingly face danger even if they don't always have the best training or gear. Although they thrive on excitement and challenge, they may feel “put out” by paddlers. Lacking much on-water experience with rivers, they don't always make a distinction between a trained river runner and the reckless, intoxicated soul they helped out last time. They're often surprised that anyone would try something as “stupid” as river running, and a few of them will say so!
All these things also apply to professionals, but they also tend to be more formal and less approachable than volunteers. Police and fire companies are paramilitary organizations and their officers are used to being in charge. The rank-and-file tend to be authoritarian, no-nonsense people who feel they are paid to know what they're doing and don't have time to fool with civilians. Both volunteers and professionals have the authority to control an accident scene, and professionals take this responsibility very seriously. They can and will arrest you if you don't follow their orders. As public officials, they are being watched carefully. If something goes wrong at an accident scene they will have to explain it to their bosses and the press. This makes them more cautious about accepting help from people on the scene than the average volunteer unit.
Although there's always been a tendency to lump all types of water rescue together, the good news is that more and more agencies are getting specialized swiftwater training. Slim Ray and other Rescue 3 instructors make a point of suggesting that the rescuers they train try to work with paddlers because they know a lot more about water than they do. Many have even been in a class with paddlers, which helps further this understanding. That probably explains the increasing amount of cooperation we've seen in recent years. In addition to excellent medical training and plenty of advanced first aid supplies, emergency responders are also trained to work as a team. They are especially skilled at evacuations: if you need to move someone through rough country back to civilization, they have the manpower, vehicles, and communications needed to do it. The typical paddling group is not nearly as organized and well-drilled.
While a few paddlers are carried to safety by first responders each year, a “water rescue” usually means a body recovery. This is pretty depressing work, as American Whitewater's current managing director explains:
”……… many rescue workers have a certain brashness or bravado born of experience, training, and their badge. When I worked with a first responder and HazMat unit in college, we thought we were invulnerable. While we would race to fires, car accidents, and chemical spills, the race to a drowning scene was left to other emergency units. At some level our commander expressed to us that the visceral thrill of responding to an accident scene was missing at drownings. Drownings were grim and silent affairs with none of the heady romance we felt helping others at accident sites. Perhaps this was due to the fact that most drownings calls were simply body recovery operations rather than rescues.”
Although some rescue squads are extremely well prepared, swiftwater rescue is pretty far down the list of priorities for other units. They prepare to fight fires and get people out of burning buildings. They learn to handle car crashes and deal with medical emergencies. Nowadays there's a big push to prepare for mass casualties following a terrorist attack. Even though they learn a lot about rope handling, teamwork, and first aid, swiftwater rescue is overlooked. This is because most areas go for years without a single swiftwater incident. Then suddenly, during a bad flood, everyone is confronted with swiftwater problems all day. Without good gear and training, accidents are inevitable. Trained personnel with good basic gear make a difference, but this takes commitment and focus over years. Most departments with good swiftwater rescue programs happened because a lower-level person took an interest and built it up slowly.
Swiftwater Rescue Training has some definite limitations. A firefighter who takes Swiftwater Rescue Technician 1 and 2 (both three-day courses) and practices in rivers twice a year is the rough equivalent of a guy who learns to kayak in a couple of weekend clinics then paddles whitewater two or three times a year. Departments that can't make even that investment may send firefighters to water rescue scenes in their heavy “turnout gear” rather than in life jackets and wetsuits. Groups with more resources sometimes think that buying an expensive piece of equipment will solve their problem. But without solid training and regular practice that gear is often useless. Several units have lost big-ticket items, like Airboats and Hovercraft, during floods.
Sometimes authorities have actually blocked rescues or over-reacted to events on the river. Here is a very old, but still relevant story of such an event:
On May 18, 1980 a man was trapped inside a pinned kayak at Mourner's Corner, a long Class II rapid on California's Kern River. Holding his head above the water with difficulty, he screamed for help. A woman walking along the road heard him and called the Sheriff. A deputy responded, decided that a shore-based rescue would be “too dangerous”, and called for a rescue helicopter.
Shortly thereafter a guided raft trip arrived. Seeing that the kayaker was in desperate trouble, the outfitter approached the Deputy and offered to help. The deputy warned that the outfitter would be held “legally responsible” for a failed rescue attempt. Confident in his ability, the outfitter began to organize a rescue. The Deputy then threatened him with loss of his commercial permit if he intervened. The outfitter quickly fired his head guide, who swam out into the river and held the kayaker's head above water. The kayak could have been pulled free with ropes, but the deputies would not permit it.
Eventually the helicopter arrived. They lowered a rescue collar to the kayaker and pulled both him and his boat off the rock. There was no thought as to how much water might be in the kayak, or if this could be done without injuring the paddler. Suddenly the river caught the kayak and threatened to pull the helicopter out of the sky! At the last minute the 'chopper regained its lift and got the kayaker ashore. After this scary scene, the kayaker was taken to the hospital where he was treated and released. No X-rays were taken, and a nurse remarked that anyone who was crazy enough to get on the river deserved whatever they got.
This event prompted a series of meetings between paddlers and emergency personnel which resulted in a better understanding on both sides. It pointed out the limitations of helicopter rescue and the need for coordination between paddlers and rescuers. A formula was developed by which paddlers would bring victims to shore whenever possible, and that the Sheriff's Office and Forest Service would coordinate the rescue.
More recently, on April 8th, 2001 a novice paddler washed into a downed tree while running a Class II rapid on Slippery Rock Creek in Western Pennsylvania. He was pinned under water just 20 feet from shore. Other boaters in the vicinity rushed to the scene, but could do nothing. When firefighters arrived, paddlers told them that the victim had been underwater for 45 minutes and was clearly dead. They suggested using a chain saw to cut the downed tree loose while paddlers waited downstream to pick up the body.
The Volunteer Fire Department's dive team rejected this idea and sent two men wading down to the strainer from upstream. Lines from shore were tied to static harnesses (with no quick release), a procedure which has caused many firefighter deaths nationwide. In addition, the two men were connected by second line that created an additional snag hazard. Minutes later something went terribly wrong. It's not clear if the pair lost their footing or if a rope became snagged, but both men disappeared under water. A few minutes later the ropes were cut, but by then it was too late. The pair was dead when they washed ashore below Harris Bridge.
The next day firefighters cut the downed tree at the shoreline, allowing the man and his kayak to float free. Paddlers later approached the fire company and offered to provide swiftwater rescue training, but were turned down. Some local newspaper accounts blamed the kayaker for the death of the rescuers.
Sometimes paddlers are accused of endangering rescuers just by being on the river. Typically he does not understand the capabilities of modern whitewater paddlers. The argument is no more compelling than saying that we endanger rescuers by driving cars that crash or living in houses that catch fire! Firefighters have no problem refusing to send men into a building that's about to collapse, and the same thing holds true for swiftwater rescue. Rescuers, like paddlers, must know their limits and refuse to compound the problem by becoming a victim themselves.
Here's a statement made by the head of a rescue squad to a newspaper following a body recovery:
“Carl Swain, assistant chief of Blue Ridge Fire and Rescue in Henderson County, said searchers worked until almost midnight Wednesday but could not find the victim because the water was high because of recent rains. The search resumed at 7 a.m. Thursday after the water receded 5 or 6 feet. Rueff's body was found about 9 a.m., wedged between two boulders about 100 yards downriver from where his kayak was found, Swain urged kayakers to stay off the Green River.” “We do this two or three times a year, and it's never a good ending,'' Swain said. “Nine times out of 10 you've got a body recovery rather than transporting someone to the hospital with a bunch of broken bones. This is a Class 5 river, and it's just dangerous no matter how good you are. This guy had been down the river 50 times, but it just takes that one time.”
UNCA Student Dies Kayaking By Barbara Blake Asheville Citizen-Times Nov. 25, 2004
Body recovery is highly emotional work, and similar remarks may be made when rescuers are tired, frustrated, or provoked by aggressive media questioning. Statements like this should be respectfully countered by knowledgeable river runners. You can contact the reporter who covered the accident directly, or write letters to the editor. In this case, Mr. Swain's remarks were challenged with thoughtful contacts and letters by Woody Calloway and Chris Bell. This resulted in a good follow-up article on the actual dangers of paddling the Green Narrows in the Hendersonville News. They were helped by these facts: there have been only two kayaking fatalities on the Green River Narrows and one kayak-related evacuation during the past decade. Most other rescues have involved hikers.
Here is a more extreme example of this sort of conflict. When the Potomac River near Washington, DC reached high record levels in 1996, an epic surf wave developed near Brookmont Dam. Olympic canoeist Davy Hearn is one of the most soft-spoken and respectful individuals you will ever meet. Although the river was supposedly closed, he had not heard about the closure or encountered any authorities on his way to the water. He was surfing the wave when a park ranger called him ashore. Davy paddled over, hoping to convince the ranger to allow him to continue. Instead he was grabbed by several nearby park police officers. He was yanked from the water, shaken from his boat, and handcuffed. He was charged with a wide array of crimes, including resisting arrest.
The incident took place in full view of TV cameras and was broadcast on the evening news. Park Police argued that paddlers had no business being on the water. They said that that allowing anyone to run the river at near-flood levels put them at risk because the law forced them to attempt rescues regardless of the danger. Paddlers quickly pointed out that the “duty to respond” to an incident does not mandate an actual rescue if a situation is unmanageable.
Hearn argued he was qualified to make the decision to be on the water for himself. The question eventually went to court, and the judge threw out the case. The next time the river got that high he and his friends surfed the wave without interference.
Nowadays many paddlers and rescuers work together cooperatively. Here are several recent examples:
On April 13, 2003 a kayaker flipped and swam while running Big Splat, a class V rapid on the Big Sandy River near Morgantown, WV. He washed over the final 15' high ledge and disappeared. Firefighters from the Bruceton-Brandonville VFD asked paddlers to assist with the on-water part of the search. A skilled group of boaters paddled down to the falls. They probed the entire downstream area without success. After communicating with rescuers who had hiked down by trail, they got back in their boats and completed the run.
For the next week the victim's friends maintained a continuous vigil at the site. Active attempts to locate and retrieve the body continued for several days. Teams of paddlers from Morgantown and Fairmont worked with closely guides from Friendsville and Ohiopyle. They tried a number of strategies to locate the kayaker's body, supported by local Fire and Red Cross workers who loaned equipment and provided food. Paddlers hiked in with the victim's parents and brought gear so they could spend the night there. Signs were posted at all access areas asking paddlers and hikers to report signs of Mr. Mayfield's whereabouts. Firefighters loaned them generator to illuminate the falls at night
The weather remained clear, and water levels gradually dropped. After the active part of the search ended his friends maintained a vigil until a memorial service a week later. During the service a hiker spotted a life vest circulating at the base of the falls and called it in. A group of the victim's close friends returned early the next day and were able to recover his body. They placed him in a large duffle bag, lashed him to a ladder, and carried him out to Rockville. Here they turned him over to authorities.
On January 25, 2004 a well-known kayaker drowned on the Russell Fork River near Elkhorn City, Kentucky. He pinned vertically under several feet of water in Tower Rapids, the first Class V drop. His companions attempted to reach him from both sides of the river with throw ropes. They managed to snag his boat twice, but could not pull it free. After 30 minutes of fruitless effort they paddled out and notified authorities.
The Elkhorn City rescue squad rode a train up the gorge and reached the scene in at dusk. Since they couldn't reach the pinned kayak from that side of the river they wisely postponed further recovery efforts until the next day. The kayak was found quickly, but despite an intensive effort using scent dogs and an underwater camera nothing more could be found. Kayakers from all over the east joined local rescuers in a lengthy attempt to recover the body. An intense search continued for several days despite frightfully cold weather. Rafts were used to ferry dive team members into place while kayakers ferried ropes and provided backup.
In the weeks that followed small groups of kayakers patrolled the river regularly. On February 24th his body was spotted in a river right eddy almost a mile downstream of the accident site.
On April 10, 2004 a woman was pinned in a mid-stream boulder sieve on New York's Class IV-V Metawee River. Her group responded quickly, but she was pushed under water and drowned. Roughly 90 minutes after the accident a large group of New York State conservation officers and rescue squad personnel arrived. Initially they provided backup for the kayakers; after two hours they set up two high lines about 30 feet over the river. A grappling hook arrived and the two groups worked together to guide it into position. Radios were used to facilitate communication. On their third attempt they snagged her life vest and pulled it off. On their fourth attempt they got under her body and pulled her free. She was recovered by State Police divers who were waiting for her downstream.
On May 22, 2004 the Lower Youghiogheny River in Ohiopyle State Park was closed to rafting because of high water. Despite the advice of local guides, a group of rafters decided to try the Cheat Canyon. The Cheat was running at 6½', well past the cut-off point for commercial outfitters. Here another outfitter warned them against launching, without success. Both of the group's boats flipped in the huge breaking waves in Decision Rapids, less than a mile from the start. Everyone swam ashore except for one man, who was overcome by the violent water and washed downstream.
Several of the survivors worked their way back upriver to a campground and called 911. With two members of the group missing, local rescue squads approached guides from Mountain Streams and Trails and a group of local kayakers and asked them to help with the search. The two inflatables were found in Beech Run Rapids; the dead man and his nephew were found above Big Nasty on river left. The guides did CPR for about 15 minutes before one of the kayakers, a physician, pronounced the man dead. The outfitters then loaded the victim and his nephew on a raft and ferried him and his nephew across the river. There they tied the victim to a backboard and carried him up a very steep slope to a trail. There they met the rescue squad, turned his body over to them, and returned to their rafts to finish the run just before nightfall.
In other instances kayakers have provided critical assistance to squads rescuing non-boaters from rivers. On June 13, 2004 two women jumped into the Chattahoochee River near Atlanta, Georgia to rescue their dogs. They were washed downstream and ended up holding precariously to the bridge abutments of I-75. Rescue workers were preparing to rappel down when a kayaker saw the commotion. He stopped on the bridge to offer assistance, but was turned down. Undaunted, he headed upstream and met a friend. The pair suited up, paddled downstream, and eddied out at the bridge abutment.
By this time firefighters had hold of one woman, but a her friend was in a much more precarious place at the next bridge pier over. After checking with the incident commander the kayaker was given a spare PFD to take to the woman. He paddled over and coaxed the woman into an eddy just upstream of a nasty log jam. She donned the PFD and got on the back of his boat. He paddled her to shore as his friend provided backup. This story made the 6:00 news on all the Atlanta stations.
Building a Good Relationship
So what's the secret to a good relationship with rescuers? It starts with being polite and respectful to the rescuers at the scene. It doesn't matter if they're clean-cut firefighters or a rough-looking group of country men. They have real authority, and challenging them gets you nowhere. Say “Yes, Sir” or “No, Sir” when appropriate. If a man introduces himself as “Chief” or “Lieutenant”, call him that. Ask to talk to the incident commander; that person is in complete charge of the rescue and makes all the decisions.
When talking to the incident commander, identify yourself and tell him about your training in whitewater and rescue. Emergency responders like to see formal credentials, so it helps if you've been through some sort of formal course like the ACA Swiftwater Rescue Course or the Rescue 3 Whitewater Rescue Technician and have a patch or card.. If the victim was a part of your group, explain what happened and what has been done. Treat the firefighters as respected colleagues in your discussions. Don't insult their skills, but share your concerns for the safety of the victim and the rescuers. Offer to do the in-water work they need, under their command. This sort of arrangement is very common today.
If you come upon an accident and offer to help, don't be surprised if you get turned down. They don't know you; maybe you're really who you say you are, but you could someone who's watched too many episodes of “Rescue 911”. If you do something wrong and you or the victim dies they, not you, will be in trouble.
If you live in the community and want to make a difference, get in touch with first responders before something happens. Not everyone has the time or energy to join a volunteer fire company, but there may be a way to help out without making that commitment. Maybe you know someone who is already in the department who can help you make contact. Introduce yourself to the Chief, and offer to help them find good instruction and gear.
Listen carefully to find out what they need. Although Rescue 3 and others provide first-rate instruction, it's not cheap. A volunteer unit on a tight budget may welcome a one-day rescue introductory clinic taught by volunteers from your paddling club. Sharing information with these guys is very satisfying, and you will learn a few things too!
If you do plan to offer a course, remember that you'll need to start with the basics. Plan a novice-level course that covers water reading, swimming, wading, and basic throw bag skills on class I-II whitewater. But never forget that your audience is trained firefighters. Don't get uppity or condescending! They know a lot more than you do about many other things. Treat them as valued colleagues, and they'll return the favor.
AW Conservation Director John Gangemi reported that the Northern Paddle and Trail Club in Rhinelander, Wisconsin encountered strong opposition from local authorities when they attempted to schedule whitewater releases from a local power plant. Rather than arguing about the actual risks of the releases, the club tried a different tactic. They purchased life vests for area rescue squads and followed up with a day spent teaching them basic swiftwater rescue skills. This goodwill gesture turned the authorities opposition into solid support for the proposed releases.