A Cold and Wet Revision

It appears I need to revise Aiello's Gear-Uselessness Principle.

On Friday, David, Tracy and I met David at Barrack's Road Shopping Center so we could get a jump-start on kayaking that evening. Since we were out that way, we decided to hit the upper part of the Rivanna River rather than one of the lake parks.

We put in at Reas Ford Road, and paddled upriver, planning to return to the car with the current. It was a gorgeous evening - I wished I had my camera, but the river was high and I wasn't able to find a hard box for my camera. All the BRMS had were small hard boxes: big enough for a couple of cell phones and a wallet and keys, but not for a camera as large as mine. I'd gotten one of the small boxes, anyhow, along with a bilge pump and a signal mirror before meeting David. So Tracy and I put our phones in the box, along with my wallet and keys. Mostly for fun, since I'd just bought the box.

But back to the beauty. That part of the river is really lovely. Nothing built up along the banks, just a couple of large homes, but those are pretty high up from the water and well shielded by trees. The river was running pretty fast, but not so fast that it was unpleasant to paddle upstream.

Just before we turned around, we happened upon a couple of rapids. Not "OMG look at those huge, roaring rapids," but some pretty fast-moving water. We decided to climb them before we turned around, 'cause we figured it'd be pretty much fun to paddle back down them.

We got up the first one with no difficulty, caught our breath, and started up the next one. Tracy and I, in the tandem, were in front; David was coming along behind us.

Then we heard this big splash, and David calling for help. His boat had turned sideways to the water (his boat is fairly keeled - great for tracking, not great for fighting rapids: too much leverage for the water) and gotten pushed over. So he was in the water, clinging to his boat like a rat to a piece of driftwood as the current carried his boat back down the rapid.

We turned our boat around as fast as we could and paddled over to him. I threw him the dry bag that had our towels, a sweatshirt, and a spare jacket so he could hold that to float, rather than the boat ('cause it's hard to get a good grip on wet plastic). Then I tossed him a life jacket so he could shrug into it, just to be on the safe side (no, we weren't wearing them). But about that point, it was shallow enough again that he could get his feet under him, so neither proved necessary. Note that that lack of necessity translated into forgetfulness: as soon as he stood up, he rather let them float on down the river in the current.

But we let them go, and focused on getting David's boat dry so we could get him back into it. I fiddled with the bilge pump a bit: it moves a lot of water (about as much as a garden hose, I'd say) but quickly decided it wasn't going to move the water fast enough to be of much use; not with the shore so close, anyhow. So Tracy and I removed our shoes and socks, rolled up our jeans, and dragged his boat into shallower water where we could manage to roll it and start draining it. Didn't take too long; much more efficient than trying to pump the boat dry: that boat only has a rear bulkhead, so when it takes in water, it takes in a lot of water.

Now would probably be a good time to mention that it was only around 50º F outside at the time. And the water was glacially cold (not literally, of course, but boy did it feel like it!). It was also about this time that David realized his (brand new) cell phone was in his pants pocket. Instant regret for not having purchased two hard boxes when I was at BRMS!

Up on shore, I had David strip off his two wet shirts and rub his chest a bit while I rubbed his back (remember that I'd thrown the dry bad with the towels and extra shirts and it was now floating down the river!) to try to get him a little warmer and dryer. I took off my outermost shirt, a long-sleeve knit, and Tracy took off the jacket she was wearing so David could have those. Nothing could be done about his soaked jeans or shoes, but at least his chest would be warm that way.

He'd also (naturally) let go of his paddle when his boat flipped, so when we got back into the boats (that water was soooo cold for bare feet!) we pulled out the spare paddle and gave it to him. Then we chased back down the river to get the gear.

Fortunately, the gear hadn't gone far. Also fortunately, the dry bag had done what it was supposed to and kept the towels and spare clothes dry, despite being dunked in the water and floated down the river. We tossed one of the towels to David, so he could take off his soaked shoes and socks and dry his feet, and used the other to dry off our feet so we could put our socks and shoes back on. That made things much for comfortable for us, at least, but since David didn't have extra socks or shoes, I doubt it was a huge improvement for him.

We fished out his paddle, took the spare back from him, and continued back to the car. With the current in our favor, we made good time. We got the boats out and back on the car without further incident - which was good: we'd all had about enough of adventure for one evening!

But back to the title of the post. A lot of our gear actually did come in handy. We needed the spare paddle, so David could control his boat (and we could both paddle ours). We needed the towels to dry off. We needed the spare clothing, so none of us would get wet. We didn't actually use the bilge pump, but I was still comforted knowing it was there: had he flipped somewhere else, we might have had to use it, since I doubt we could have pulled his boat onto the front of ours to drain it (though I plan to practice that and other recovery techniques once it warms up a bit).

Perhaps the reason the Principle failed to hold on Friday was because the relative badness of the outcome was so high. I mean, David got cold. And so did we, though it was nothing in comparison. And perhaps my lack of forethought in throwing away the towels and spare clothes as a floatation device had something to do with it.

Or perhaps it was the badness of soaking his phone (so much so that the external display was waterlogged, with a nice air bubble on top of it, making it rather like a level) due to a missing hard box.

Whatever it was, we needed most of our gear this time around! And I think we learned quite a bit from the experience. For instance, I learned that I need to think a bit more carefully before throwing things for floatation. I mean, sure, in a life-or-death situation, it's better to throw away your towels than let someone drown. But he wasn't in that dire of straights at the time, and I certainly could have taken the extra 10 seconds to dig grab the life jacket instead. It would also have been better had the dry bag been tied to our boat. It's got a D-ring for that purpose - I should really put it to use.

And having done this once, I want to practice it several times (in warmer weather) so that next time a boat flips, we'll be more efficient and skilled at recovering the boat. We spent far to long floundering about in the water trying different things, before actually making progress in draining his boat and getting out of the water. Had the water truly been cold - like near-freezing kind of cold - David would have been in trouble by then. Not that I plan on us being in water that cold, but preparation, as this incident demonstrated, is a Good Thing™.