The Grand Canyon’s Colorado River was thundering . It was gushing at one of its highest flows ever; 60,000+ cubic feet per second. That’s some serious roaring 
whitewater. It generated huge, towering, tumultuous, treacherous, rapids.
But on the paddle boat, raising a few eyebrows, some teamwork skills were a bit lacking.
Lets backup a bit for some context. Some years ago, my dear friend and World Class whitewater river guide, Alan Williams arranged a Grand Canyon river trip for his family and invited me to join in.
(I refer to the brilliant, thoughtful, strikingly handsome*, athlete Alan Williams from Pacific Grove, not the extra-plush Malaprop spouting Carmel development goofus.)
Such a rare and eagerly anticipated treat.
For reference, 60,000 cubic feet per second is roughly the amount of water that would fill four 3 bedroom houses – every second. The Colorado flow is controlled by a dam. It rarely has such high flows. In fact, very few young river runners have ever heard of this extraordinary time. We just happened to get lucky.
Since I couldn’t arrange to take the entire 2 weeks off, I was to meet the family, crew and boats after they’d floated for 5 days. After a picturesque train ride from California, I walked down the 5,000 foot hot, dusty descent trail from the South Rim to meet them near Bright Angel camp. Accompanying me was a lovely lass who brought a rare treat — Ice Cream packed in dry ice. Successfully. And amazing.
We arrived at camp at the appointed time as the several inflatable boats filled with familiar faces slid up on the beach to a joyful reunion. Oar boats with all our food and camping supplies were rowed by Alan and brother Hal. The last boat carried six adventurers all sporting paddles that provided the “engine” and steering. While the extra muscle power is a big help, Teamwork is required to get this kind of Paddleboat down a river properly or the boat could go in circles. Or worse, into some seriously wrong and deadly places.
That eve, while enjoying a sumptuous camp dinner (Alan is not just a master at river running and organizing) some of the passengers admitted to me they were not enjoying as grand an adventure as they hoped for. Apparently, the academic with thick glasses, captaining the Paddle boat was not adequately competent at his post. He’d lost several passengers in rapids so far (thankfully all retrieved successfully). The most serious infraction was when his captaining had resulted in our leader’s mother going overboard in a rapid. Not good. Some of the paddle crew had even been crying. In his defense, the river flow was extraordinary; roaring, and needed more attention and maybe more expertise and experience than he had.
Of course I listened with empathy and concern, but somehow it didn’t occur to me to do anything about it, and Alan didn’t mention it.
I slept solidly that eve under crystal clear dark skies festooned with bright stars. Awaking early I was eager to get out floating on the river as soon as possible after our wonderful breakfast.
So we all suited up, packed up and our paddle crew got in, ready to shove off. I was assigned to sit in the back as a passenger alongside the paddle Captain. So we’re off.
Immediately upon leaving the shore, the captain gave us the paddle order “Paddle Left” that would have taken us right into a rock. Without a moment’s thought, I barked “No, Paddle Right.” (Thinking back on that moment I might have been astonished that everyone followed my direction, instead of the Captain’s.)
With that the Captain angrily cried out “Who’s guiding this boat? You or me?”
A bit shocked, without hesitation I solidly replied “I am.”
With that – the paddle crew cheered and pumped their paddles. Quickly recovering, they continued paddling right to slide past the rock we would have otherwise hit.
I led the paddle boat the rest of the trip without incident. The displaced captain never said another word about it. We didn’t flip the boat. We didn’t wrap it on any rocks. Not a single passenger fell out. And no one cried – except for joy.
We sailed beautifully right through the then huge, and always treacherous and majestic Crystal Rapid and the famous, dramatic Lava Falls. I had the treat of floating Lava Falls twice that trip; first as a passenger in Hal’s boat, then I walked back up to Captain our paddle boat. Also saw my first Ringtailed Cat; the politest wild animal I’ve ever met. Not kidding.
That trip with the huge flows was mostly rapids with a few flat sections to relax in. A more recent Grand Canyon float trip I did was the inverse – mostly flat spots with occasional rapids.
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* Alan was so good looking (still is), girls would often slyly, trying to be nonchalant, cross the street to get a closer, often sideways, look at him. Perhaps hoping to catch his attention. (I never caught those women glancing in the same manner. It was as though I was graced with my own version of a Harry Potter Invisibility Cloak.) Alan is the same remarkable athlete who set track records at Pacific Grove High School that remain unbroken many, many years later.
PS I’ll add photographs when I get more time.
