After my sig is a detailed description of an incident which occurred on my home waters, near Skamokawa, WA. The writer is Andrew Emlen, who is the director of the Skamokawa Paddle Center. News media accounts of this incident were slightly in error. For that reason, and so that others might learn from this, Andrew has agreed to post this on Paddlewise. He is interested in analysis of others. Because he is not a subscriber to Paddlewise, it would help him if you copied any postings to him, also. Thanks. -- Dave Kruger Astoria, OR -- Hi Dave, I interviewed one of the rescued kayakers today when he came to retrieve his boat, and I have corrected and clarified the story accordingly. I have chosen not to provide any analysis at this point, preferring to hear what other paddlers have to say. I have contacted Sea Kayaker magazine to see if they are interested in having me flesh it out according to their guidelines, and will attempt an analysis at that point. So go ahead and let this be a topic of discussion, and let me know where I can find it on the website. -Andrew ----------------------------- Trapped by the Tide On Sunday, March 5, a helicopter plucked two kayakers from Welch Island in the lower Columbia River after a short afternoon paddle turned into a grueling 30-hour ordeal. They have agreed to let me tell their story, which bears some lessons for for all involved. The Columbia River at Skamokawa is three miles wide. Welch Island is part of the 35,000-acre Lewis & Clark National Wildlife Refuge, a network of low islands intersected with a maze of sloughs. The solitude and wildlife among these islands is attracting an increasing number of sea kayakers, but that same inviting tangle can make things difficult when things go wrong. Jeff and Tom (not their real names), both in their early fifties, intended to explore the islands on Saturday, March 4. Jeff had 14 years of kayaking experience, most of it in Puget Sound. With his wife Linda he had taken three of George Gronsethıs kayaking courses, including a weekend campout to practice navigation. Tom had taken a one-day introductory course and had gone out with Jeff once before. Jeff had planned a nice, untaxing afternoon complete with a big picnic lunch, in hopes of enticing Tom to be his partner in future kayaking adventures. They paddled Jeffıs 22-foot Current Designs Libra double kayak. The two men stopped to eat at Skamokawa Centerıs café, then started out from Skamokawa toward Welch Island. They carried a small cooler of food, a camp stove, coffeepot, duct tape, mini first-aid kit, two tow ropes, and a plastic jar with matches, toilet paper, a gauze bandage, sunscreen and lip balm. They brought a nautical chart and compass, a storm whistle, and each carried a water bottle. Tom wore a shorty 2-mil wetsuit over Coolmax long underwear. Jeff wore a drysuit over Coolmax underwear, a heavy fleece vest and neoprene gloves. Both wore Type III PFDıs. Jeff had intended to bring a second drybag containing flares, first aid supplies and extra synthetic fleece clothing, but forgot and left it in the truck. Tom had a cell phone, which he left in the truck because he had not received enough signal in Long Beach and figured he wouldnıt be able to use it. They probably reached Welch Island by 12:30 or so, 30 minutes before the day's high tide of 8.4. They thought that they were rounding the end of the next island downstream, FitzPatrick, a mistake they made because most of FitzPatrick is underwater at that tide. The part that isn't submerged appears over half a mile distant from Welch Island, easily lost against the far shoreline. They intended to return through the passage between Welch and FizPatrick, the passage they had in fact just gone through. So as they headed upstream along the Oregon side of Welch Island they bypassed the pair of sloughs at the downstream end (including the one that bisects the island), mistaking them for the dead end marsh in the center of FitzPatrick. They then headed up the next slough, thinking it was the one. In fact, it is a dead end to the center of Welch. As they continued the slough got more and more narrow, and eventually they were pushing aside branches in a slough just wide and deep enough for their boat. They pressed on because, convinced they were on narrow FitzPatrick Island, they must be close to the far side. As the tide receded, they were stranded. Trying to walk this slough is also difficult, as it is full of waist-deep sinkholes, logs and brush. They decided to wait for the next tide in the middle of the night and paddle out by starlight. The 2:06am tide was a 7.8, and they were crestfallen to discover that there was not enough water to fill the slough. That night was about 28°, and they stayed warm by walking all night and building a short-lived fire with dead grasses. They were thankful for the warmth of their life vests. In the morning they used the stove to heat up a pot of tea mixed with generous amounts of sugar and half and half. They dragged the boat north for 100 yards or so, then decided to abandon it. They headed north, reckoning that if they were on FitzPatrick a northerly course would soon bring them to the main channel where they could flag down help. They packed two drybags with most of their food and their matches, and used their paddles as walking staffs. I walked into Skamokawa Center at 8:15 Sunday morning after an early morning walk in the Julia Butler Hansen Refuge with my kayak tour guests. Lori was upset - her daughter Michaela, who had been serving and talking to Jeff and Tom as they ate on Saturday, recognized their vehicle and was sure they had said they were only out for the day to visit Tenasillahe Island. I called the Wahkiakum County sheriffıs office. They tracked down Jeffıs home number from his license plate and tried to verify with his wife that they were indeed missing. Meanwhile my tour guests declined the second day of our tour so I could search. Dave Christenson, another guide, was also summoned, and Jan Miller, Skamokawa Center manager, stood on the dock and flagged down every boat going out to fish. A kayaking group from Lane Community College also volunteered, and soon about 16 boats were searching the area. Tom and Jeff, meanwhile, were slogging through dense willow and dogwood, clambering over fallen cottonwood trees, and sinking into mudholes. Eventually they reached the slough that bisects Welch, at a point where it is about 200 feet wide. They used grass to light an abandoned tire on fire and attempted to warm up. As the fire dwindled, they decided their best hope was to swim the slough. Tom plunged into the 48° water and got back out again, insisting, ³Iım going to get halfway across and Iım going to die!² ³Just let your wetsuit do its job², Jeff urged. ³In two minutes your body will warm up the water against your skin. Iıll take the gear.² Tom plunged in and Jeff lagged behind dragging both paddles and the two dry bags. They continued north. I called in every hour. The word each hour from the sheriffıs office was that they would act when they verified with Jeffıs wife Linda that the men were missing. The Coast Guard, whom Jan had called directly from Skamokawa Center, was also waiting for verification before sending a helicopter. When I called at 1:00, I was told to come in - the sheriffıs office had reached Linda, and she said that they had spent the night at a house in Long Beach. Everyone who checked in was told the same thing. What Linda had actually said was that the men had intended to spend the day paddling in the Skamokawa area, then drive to Long Beach to stay at a friendıs vacation home because they werenıt equipped for camping. She had no idea that the sheriffıs office had understood that to mean that they had spent the night in Long Beach and werenıt missing. Linda decided to drive down from Seattle. When she arrived at Skamokawa Center, she was surprised to find Lori acting nonchalant when she introduced herself. Expecting to be told something of her husband, she engaged Lori in a little conversation. ³How are they?² Lori asked. ³I donıt know², Linda replied. It was after 4:00pm. By about the same time, Tom and Jeff had gotten as far as they could go. They were still on the shore of an interior slough of Welch, but could see out to the shipping channel to the west and hoped they could flag someone. In fact, due to shallows at the mouth of their slough, it was unlikely that any motorized boat would pass within half a mile. They built a platform of sticks so they could spend the night if they had to. At the sheriffıs office at 4:30, Linda filled out a missing personıs report as the Coast Guard was notified. A Coast Guard helicopter that was out on another mission was asked to respond. By the time they would arrive little over an hour of daylight would remain. Feeling the need to do something, Linda went to the Cathlamet marina to see if she could hire someone to take her out in a boat to look. She asked fishermen coming in to the marina in Cathlamet if they would do so, but they refused, explaining that their boat was not equipped for running at night. Seeing how desperate she was to find her husband, one of them offered that he had heard whistles and someone shouting. ³I thought it was someone training their dog². ³Where?² asked Linda. ³At that island across from the park (Welch Island).² Linda rushed back to the sheriffıs office, insisting she knew where they were. The Coast Guard was acting on a report of a kayaker six miles downriver and agreed to check Welch when they were finished. I had returned to my kayak when Lori told me Tom and Jeff were still out there, and I began checking under the overhanging trees along the north shore of the river. It was just at sunset when I saw the helicopter lower over Welch Island and heard on the VHF that they had recovered the missing kayakers. The Coast Guard dropped them off at Vista Park, where Linda and two friends were waiting. Tom and Jeff told me their story before going to Long Beach for a hot bath. I should have put them in a tub right there, for although they were perfectly lucid and coordinated, had been checked and released by the Coast Guard, and told me they werenıt hypothermic, acute stress reaction (ASR) no doubt had been masking the effects of their ordeal. Jeff told me that after one hour in a heated car, fatigue and soreness and chills set in and he literally crawled into the bathtub. The next day, Dave Christensen and I found the paddles on a slough in the interior of Welch Island. A water bottle Dave spotted hanging on a willow was the only giveaway, for the tide had covered the ground with a foot of water. Their stick platform, paddles, and spray skirt were all floating in the brush. I shuddered to think of the night they would have had in store, 30° and calf deep in 48° water. Hereıs to the Coast Guard! Jeff later said that considering all they had endured up to that point, he didnıt think they would have survived another night out there. A food container surprisingly still had some smoked salmon and sliced meat and cheese - they had saved food for another day. Jeff said that he had never been hungry during their ordeal, and that when they ran out of water they resorted to drinking the Columbia. Knowing their story and knowing the exact location where they had been picked up, I surmised which slough they had entered. There was an 8.5 foot tide at about 3:00pm on Tuesday, so I went to retrieve their boat. Even knowing where I was and knowing how much time I had (Jeff and Tom had not brought or checked a tidebook when they left), it was still a little hairy. Encouraged by the sight of a few broken branches, I pushed under trees and through willow thickets until I could go no farther. The slough dissolved into a swamp of intersecting passages, beaver meadows and thickets. I got out and walked a little to try for a better vantage point, but saw nothing and returned to my boat, figuring I had blown my chance. Then I saw their footprints, one set with a wetsuit bootie tread. Figuring they were already on foot and the boat must be to the south, I doubled back and took another fork, which proved totally impassable. With less than half an hour before the tide turn, I returned to the first site and blundered through another passage that previously had not had enough water for me to get in. I broke into another beaver meadow and saw the boat. My enthusiasm was tempered by the fact that I now had to tow it out through the tangle. It rarely wanted to follow directly behind, and I had to keep backing up, redirecting the bow and pulling it again. When I emerged into open slough, it was 3:00. I called in - the cell phone worked fine from within Welch Island. When I returned to the main river I covered the cockpits with skirts brought for that purpose and began the slow tow back to Skamokawa. Andrew Emlen Skamokawa Paddle Center 1391 W. SR 4 Skamokawa, WA 98647 360-795-8300 skpaddle_at_pacifier.com *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - All postings copyright the author and not to be reproduced outside PaddleWise without author's permission Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.paddlewise.net/ ***************************************************************************
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