Part of this preparation is swiftwater rescue training, or SRT for short. As a part of ou
r advanced SRT practicum, we encountered a search and rescue situation in the 100-meter deep Xico gorge. When we arrived at the site I had a feeling of deja vu, a sense that I’d seen this place before. I then realized that where we were was the site used in filming the jungle battle scene in the Harrison Ford movie, Clear and Present Danger. The Xico river is a raging torrent which cascades over a 80-meter waterfall into a tightly constricted gorge over 100 meters deep. Our rescue team was high above the gorge on a bridge that spans its width while our victims were over 100 meters below us at the base of the waterfall.The most difficult aspect of the scenario was accessing our victims. In order to access our victims we were lowered off the bridge by a complex rope system. I hesitated at first but after mustering enough intestinal fortitude I finally climbed over the perfectly good guard rail, sat into my harness, and let go of the bridge. Talk about putting trust in your equipment! I was forced to put all my trust in a rope, a pulley, some webbing, and a few carabiners. I think I conquered my fear of heights in the few minutes it took me to descend the 100 m. It was truly one of the most exhilarating things I’d ever done.
The rest of the scenario was somewhat anti-climatic after the rappel. We found our victims, treated them in an appropriate manner, and evacuated them via a very steep trail further downstream. The great thing about WILD is that through scenarios like this you not only get the theoretical training involved in search and rescue but you also get the practical, hands-on training you need to become the best guide you can be.
I value this type of education tremendously and the two-and-a-half months of training we’ve had so far on the program really paid off for me this weekend when I encountered my first real-life whitewater emergency. To make up for missing WILD’s kayaking day on the Barranca Grande section of the Pescados due to an illness, Jim Coffey, the coordinator of WILD, arranged an opportunity for me to paddle this great section as a safety kayaker for a commercial rafting trip operated by Adventuras Sin Limites. This was a great opportunity for me to see a section of river which I missed out on early as well as gain valuable commercial experience working; and much to my surprise it was an opportunity to test some of the valuable skills I’d learned so far on WILD.
Over two days the trip was planning on navigating over 60 kms of whitewater on the Barranca Grande and Pescados sections of the Rio Antigua. My role was to paddle ahead of the rafts and act as a rescue platform and containment vehicle in case people fell out of the rafts or if a raft were to capsize. In reality, a safety kayaker is a glorified swim coach, directing swimmers to safe spots on the river and, in certain circumstances, actively taking swimmers where they need to go.
About an hour into the trip one raft flipped sending the entire crew into the water. A flip on a continuous river is very dramatic because there are very few places to stop and recover. I was put to work immediately rescuing swimmers and directing traffic. Probably the most important role of a safety kayaker is to act as a downstream perimeter marker making sure no swimmers escape past you.
I quickly turned my attention to a swimmer who was penetrating my downstream perimeter. He was panicking and very frightened. I approached quickly yet cautiously. Panicking swimmers tend to confuse friendly kaykers who are there to help as simple floating objects in which they can perch themselves and get air. As he approached I told him where to swim, but, in a panic, he attacked my kayak, forced me to flip upside down, and proceded to climb on top of my capsized boat. Rerighting a kayak with a two-hundred pound man on top of it is next to impossible. Now the tables had turned and I started to panic because there was no way I wanted to exit my boat and add another swimmer to the rescue operation. I tried to roll but it wasn’t working. Tired, frustrated, scared, and running low on air, I frantically started swinging my paddle above my boat until I felt a solid thump. The thump was my paddle blade hitting my human anchor in the side of the head. The blow knocked him off my boat. I was then able to roll my boat, regain my composure, and tow him to shore.
While all this was happening the other raft was gathering the rest of the clients and the unmanned capsized raft continued downstream. I switched roles quickly from person rescuer to boat rescuer b
ecause if we lost our raft we would have lost our only mode of transport out of the canyon. I set off paddling downstream as fast as I could, down rapids I’d never paddled before in a kayak. Eventually, about 2 kms downstream I saw the raft. It is very difficult to tow a raft from a kayak and next to impossible to reright it. So, instead, I continued paddling past the raft, got out quickly on a rock on the side of the river, grabbed my flip line, and as the raft floated past the rock I clipped my flipline to the raft and managed to secure it in a small eddy.As a result of the flip one client and a guide had to be evacuated to hospital once we got out of the gorge and to our camp for the night. The man I rescued suffered several contusions to his lower extremities and a laceration to his head thanks to my paddle. The guide ended up tearing his ACL in his right knee. Despite the injuries the trip was a success. Everyone had a great time. The flip and resulting carnage ended up adding an exciting element of danger to the experience. I don’t think I would have acted in such an effective manner if it wasn’t for the training I’ve had through WILD. Whitewater can be a scary place, but with the right tools and the right frame of mind it can be a wonderful medium for travel, adventure, excitement, and exploration.
